‘Right, then, come on, Jenny, we’re going to see your grandma. If you see her mother, just tell her where she is, will you?’
‘I certainly will,’ the woman nodded.
Charles wouldn’t approve of such interference, Marie thought, as she walked off holding Jenny’s hand. Well, to hell with Charles. It was obvious now why he hadn’t wanted to interfere in Hannah’s business on the night she’d come home with that soldier, and smacked Jenny into the middle of the street. He hadn’t wanted his own dirty little secret coming to light, and Hannah might just have trotted it out for all to hear. Marie glowed with anger. She was absolutely shameless, that woman. Absolutely without shame.
‘You’re walking too fast,’ Jenny said, breathlessly trying to keep up.
Marie slowed her pace as they walked along Spring Bank and down Albert Avenue. When they passed the baths, she thought of George, searching in there among a lot of battered corpses, trying to find Nancy. What a nightmare that must have been, poor lad, and how had Nancy treated him? Left him without a word. Without a thought, even, except she remembered to take all his savings with her.
‘My dad brings me here,’ Jenny said.
‘What, to the baths?’
‘Sometimes. But he brings me this way when we go to my nanna’s.’
‘Doesn’t your mother ever bring you?’
‘No.’
They walked in silence then until they came to Scarborough Street. Jenny left her side then and ran down the street, to hammer on her grandmother’s door. When it opened, Jenny flung herself into a woman’s arms, to be lifted and hugged – by a woman as fair as Jenny herself, who bore more resemblance to her than her mother did, and who had obviously been crying. Marie instinctively liked her.
‘I found her playing in the ruins of a house on Marlborough Avenue. Those places aren’t safe. There’s so much rubble, you wouldn’t even know if there was an unexploded bomb. It’s not the first time, either. She’ll end up breaking her neck, if somebody doesn’t watch her. I tried taking her back home, but her mother was out.’
The woman showed not the slightest surprise. ‘Well, just fancy that. Come in. You go into the kitchen, Jenny, love. Go and get a biscuit, while I talk to the lady.’
When Jenny was out of earshot, she closed the adjoining door and turned to Marie. ‘We’ve had a terrible upsetment,’ she said, with tears springing to her eyes. ‘Her dad’s been reported missing, presumed dead. The ship he was in copped a torpedo. Of course, Hannah got the letter the Ministry of War sent, but she didn’t bother telling us. “Recorded as supposed drowned whilst on service with his ship,” it said. ‘His name’s going on the roll of honour of men who gave their lives for their country, as if that’s any consolation to me. We got the news third-hand, days after.’
‘Jenny’s dad? Your son?’ Marie said, the wind completely taken out of her sails.
The woman nodded, and her face crumpled. She fished a damp handkerchief out of her apron pocket to dab her sore and swollen eyelids and blow her nose. ‘We only heard a couple of days ago, and I’ve hardly stopped crying since. In his last letter, he told me, “Watch out for my Jenny,” as if he’d had a premonition. And I’ve been trying to watch out for Jenny since he went away, I really have. But if I arrange to go and see her, Hannah makes sure she’s out. And if I call unexpectedly, it’s not convenient, because they’re going out, or they’re expecting company. There’s always some excuse. That’s the sort of game she plays. You’re not a friend of hers, are you?’
‘No, I am not. I live . . . lived on the same street, that’s all.’
‘We don’t get on, me and Hannah, as you might have gathered. None of the family can stand her. None of us have any more to do with her than we have to, for our Larry’s sake. I don’t know how many blokes she’s got off with, since the war started. She’s a disgrace. She thinks I know nothing, but I get to know it all, from somebody I know who lives opposite her. Now she’s expecting again. It can’t be our Larry’s, and I’m glad it’s not. I shouldn’t like to think she had another of his bairns, and him not there to look out for it.’
Despite the warmth of the day, a chill went through Marie. ‘No, it’s pretty certain it’s not Larry’s,’ she said, grim-faced. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Gertrude, really, but people call me Trudie.’
‘Mine’s Marie. I’ll leave Jenny with you, then, shall I?’
The woman nodded. ‘She might come looking for her in a day or two, if she bethinks herself.’
‘I hope your son turns up safe, for all your sakes, Jenny’s especially. It sometimes happens, doesn’t it?’
Trudie gave her a look of bitter disbelief, and shook her head. ‘The Atlantic’s vast, and deep and cold. I’ve no great hopes of him turning up safe out of that.’
Marie walked away, grieved for both her and Jenny. She was too sickened by it all to call back at Hannah’s. Jenny would be all right where she was, so leave it to the neighbour to tell Hannah where her daughter was, if she wanted to. If she didn’t, Hannah would have to wonder for a while and then shift herself to go and find Jenny, if she cared enough. And a good fright might do her good, make her buck her ideas up and take better care of her daughter.
‘Charles and Hannah?’ Nancy said, when Marie finally got to the Hardings’ house. ‘It was on the tip of my tongue to say something many a time, especially that time you laid into me about Monty. Then the police came to see you about your dad, so I never.’
‘Say what?’
‘Say Charles might not be everything you think he is. Say quite a few people had seen them dancing together while you were at work, when he was at home in January, and again that night we were shifting beds after the bombing at the end of March.’
Marie flushed. ‘It would have been nice if you’d told me as soon as you knew.’
‘You’re joking. Nobody does that. I didn’t see them, so as far as I was concerned it was just a rumour, and you wouldn’t have believed it anyway. People get themselves into a lot of trouble for gobbing off about things like that. Anyway, that’s all there is to it. You know as much as me, now.’
Marie nodded. ‘I meant to have an hour or two with you, but I got sidetracked, and now I’ll have to go, to get my mam ready for bed. George has had to bring a bed downstairs for her.’
‘He told me. Weak heart, he said.’
‘He’s been very good. There aren’t many men would put up with somebody else’s invalid mother.’
‘He’s been well trained. His mother’s had him running after her ever since his dad died, cracking on she’s nearly blind.’
‘Well, she’s certainly very short-sighted.’
‘She can see what she wants to see.’
‘Well, he doesn’t seem to mind, anyhow,’ Marie said, standing up to go.
Nancy’s eyes narrowed, and her mouth compressed into a thin, hard line. ‘He must be in his element now, with two old women to keep telling him how wonderful he is.’
‘Hold on a minute, Nance,’ Marie bristled. ‘My mother’s not fifty yet. That’s not old. Do you call your mother an old woman?’
‘Sorry. I wasn’t really thinking about your mother.’
‘Well, Aunt Edie’s only a few years older, and she’s been very kind to us, as it happens. Anyway, is he taking you out tonight?’
‘He’s coming round. We’ll see what happens.’
The peculiar expression on Nancy’s face gave Marie a very bad feeling. ‘You’re not going to try to land him with somebody else’s baby, are you?’ she demanded.
Nancy’s cheeks and lips turned to flame. ‘What? What are you talking about? I’m not having any baby,’ she said, ‘so don’t you go spreading any rumours. There’s nothing the matter with me.’
The front room at the Maltbys’ was so crammed with furniture it was difficult to manoeuvre, but Aunt Edie seemed not to mind. The two women were sitting in armchairs opposite each other, seeming very happy in each other’s company when Marie arriv
ed to see to her mother, and help Aunt Edie with some of the rougher housework. George went out almost immediately, giving her a wink as he left, apparently oblivious of the fact that his mother knew that Nancy was ‘round his neck again’.
‘George says he’s going to put the settee in the bedroom out of the way, as soon as he can get somebody to help him get it up the stairs,’ Auntie Edie said, when he’d gone.
‘I’d offer, but I think it’ll need two strong men,’ Marie said, picturing herself sleeping on that battered old settee, if the situation with Hannah made it necessary for her to leave the Elsworths. It looked like a back breaker, but it might be better to be on the spot for her mother. On the other hand, the situation with Nancy was very sticky, and not likely to get much better, all things considered, and she was determined to stay as far out of that as she could.
No, she decided. Between the Elsworths and the Maltbys she was between the devil and the deep blue sea. If she moved, it would have to be to Dunswell, however much of a nuisance the travelling would be.
When she got back to the Elsworths, she went straight to her room – Charles’s room – and wrote him a very short letter.
Dear Charles,
Hannah’s about five months pregnant, as you already know. Today she asked me to tell you you’re going to be a daddy. In other words, she’s accusing you of being the father. What have you got to say to that? Your mother’s not exactly springing to your defence, by the way.
By one of those strange coincidences, Hannah’s husband has been reported lost at sea, although I’d never have guessed it when I saw her this morning. She was just as happy as Larry, who, come to think, is beyond being happy now, or miserable, for that matter. Which opens the way for you to make an honest woman of her, and give the bairn a name. Which brings me to the question – would you like your ring back, or shall I just pass it on to her?
After signing it with a bare ‘Marie’ she hurried downstairs to take it to the post box before going to bed. There was a moment’s awkwardness when she bumped into Mr Elsworth in the hallway.
‘I’ve heard all about it,’ he grimaced. ‘Marjorie says she had a feeling there might be something going on.’
‘I’ve just written to him.’
‘So have we. In case you had any thoughts about moving, we’d like you to stay where you are, at least until he gets some leave. And you needn’t worry about Hannah. Marjorie’s given her a month’s wages, in lieu of notice, and she’s found her a place with our friends in Newland Park. They haven’t any adult sons – not that the damage isn’t already done.’
‘That’s very nice of you, Mr Elsworth,’ she said. ‘I appreciate it.’
And she did. They had been very kind to her, and the way things had turned out, she might regret parting with Mr and Mrs Elsworth more than with Charles when – if – the break came.
Charles’s reply arrived a couple of days later.
Dear Marie
I admit it. At least I admit it’s possible. But it’s also possible it’s not. If it’s true about her husband, I’m very sorry indeed, but Hannah is very liberal with her favours, and NOBODY COULD MAKE AN HONEST WOMAN OF HER. He couldn’t, and I couldn’t. That is simply not possible. I’m sorry I ever got tangled up with her. And no, I don’t want my ring back. I want you to keep the ring, and I certainly don’t want you to give it to Hannah. I care nothing for Hannah. You’re the woman I want. We’ll get married, and get you a house to rent so you can look after your mother in your own place. I’m trying desperately to get home, so that I can try and convince you that you’re the woman I love, and I mean every word I’ve ever said to you.
All my love,
Forever yours, Chas
Marie read it over three times, and then put it aside, thinking of the air raid that killed her father. Had it not been for the siren, she and Charles would certainly have made love, and she remembered his comments about stocking tops and promised lands. Warning bells had rung in her mind at the time. Now she knew whose stocking tops he was talking about, and where that promised land was, and she imagined his hands on Hannah’s thighs.
She blanked the thought out. It was too disgusting. Forgiveness for something so gross was too facile, too weak. She found some writing paper, and a pen.
‘Well, Charles,’ she murmured, ‘I might be the woman you want, but I’m not sure you’re the man for me, if you’re tempted by a slut like her.’
Chapter 23
Terry came roaring up Princes Avenue on his motorbike, just as Marie was walking down towards Clumber Street on Friday evening. He stopped beside the kerb.
‘You must have been busy last night,’ Marie said. ‘I was sitting in the Elsworths’ air-raid shelter from one o’clock this morning with my teeth chattering, listening to the bombs going off, wondering if they had another one for me or my mother. It lasted for hours.’
‘Aye, we had a lively time of it, and not only high explosives: they dropped loads of incendiaries as well. They were going for the railway, mostly. We put seventy-eight fires out all together; the worst one was Blundell Spence on Air Street. There’s enough damage to keep the building trade going for a bit, I should think, as well as the doctors. About twenty people killed, and twice as many seriously injured. Anyway, it’s earned me a couple of days off. I was just coming to see if you fancied coming to the dance at the Fulford tonight.’
‘Tonight? Well, that’s now, Terry! It’s nearly eight o’clock.’
‘I know. I slept a bit late after the high jinks last night. What about it, then?’
‘Oh, no! I haven’t got time. It’ll be ten o’clock before I get my mother settled and help Aunt Edie with the work.’
‘Another time, then?’
‘Yes, definitely. But give me more than a minute’s notice, then I can get everything done in time. And I like to get dolled up a bit to go out.’
‘What about tomorrow?’
‘Yeah. You’re on. I’ll go to Auntie Edie’s early, and get ready there. You can’t miss it, it’s two doors down from the one that got flattened. Come at about half-past eight. I can’t be ready any sooner.’
She would get her glad rags on, Marie thought, and go out with him openly – flaunt him, even. No sneaking off, hole-in-corner stuff for her. Let people think what they liked about her going out with Terry. It was a pity he couldn’t pick her up at the Elsworths’, so they could get an eyeful, and report it all back to Charles. But going back there to get changed would be a waste of precious dancing time. Terry took her down to Auntie Edie’s on the back of the bike. Marie spotted Jenny on Princes Avenue on the way there. Hannah must have been to collect her, then. Wonders would never cease, Marie thought.
George was still in when Terry dropped her off.
‘Not out dancing tonight, George?’ she asked, surprised to find him still at home.
He was quite morose. ‘No, I don’t feel like it.’
Marie suddenly remembered what they’d said about needing a strong man and dashed back into the street and, pressing two fingers over her curled tongue, sent a penetrating whistle after Terry. He stopped the bike and came back.
‘Will you do us a favour?’
‘Anything, for you.’
‘Help George lug a settee upstairs?’
He switched off the ignition and came inside.
‘And that will be that damned thing out of the way,’ she said. ‘At least we’ll be able to move in the front room, then.’
Marie left her mother settled in bed, with Auntie Edie in the armchair yarning with her about old times, and went through to the kitchen, flicking the wireless on in the dining room as she passed. George folded up his paper and followed her, picking up a tea towel.
Marie turned the hot tap on, and waited for the sink to fill. ‘What’s up with you, George? You look as if you’ve lost a quid and found a tanner.’
‘I’ve lost more than any quid,’ he frowned. ‘I’ve lost over a hundred and fifty – and that’s not including Nancy�
�s money. Another hundred and I could have bought us a nice little bungalow in Bilton, with a garage.’
‘What a letdown.’
‘I’ve finished with her,’ he said quietly.
She turned the tap off, and began to wash the pots and put them on the draining board. ‘Because of the money?’
‘No. Because of some monkey business the other night. We were supposed to be going dancing, but she wasn’t ready when I went round. Well, that was nothing new; I’ve always ended up waiting at least half an hour for her titivating herself. She takes more getting ready than the Queen of Sheba. So she says, “The lodgers are out, and my mother’s gone round to my nan’s. We’ve got the house to ourselves.” ’
Marie paused in her task, and listened.
George gave a grim nod. ‘Well, that was something new. Try as I might, I’ve never managed to get her on her own before; we’ve never got anywhere near the knickers-off stage. And quiet nights in aren’t Nance’s style; she likes to be out, enjoying herself. So she cosies up to me, and all of a sudden her mouth’s clamped over mine like a bloody suction cup and she’s groping inside my clothes. That’s never been her style before, either – not with me, at any rate. So I said, “Get off! Somebody might come in.” “No, they won’t,” she says. “Anyway, lock the door, if you’re so bothered.” And even if I’d been in the mood, which I wasn’t, because it landed on me like a ton of bricks – there was something about it that . . . well, it would have put anybody off, even if they had been. So I got up as if I was going to lock the door, and I walked straight out of it. And it’ll be a bloody long time before I go back.’
‘Hmm,’ Marie said.
‘Hmm. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll tell you.’
‘I’m thinking that Monty’s left her with a little bun in her oven that she’s trying to foist on me.’
Angel of the North Page 22
