‘Marie! I love you! You’re the only woman on earth I’m interested in,’ he called after her as she left the ward with tears of anger and frustration in her eyes. She didn’t even turn round. On her way to the hospital she’d imagined a touching scene of tenderness and reconciliation. On the walk back she berated herself for allowing Hannah to goad her into turning it into one of bitterness and recrimination. She felt wrong-footed and put in the wrong, when in reality it was he and Hannah who were in the wrong, not her. And what red-blooded woman could have held it all in? Really and truly, though, who could have? Charles might have saved Alfie’s life, but he still had a lot to answer for. He couldn’t expect to wipe everything else out because of that.
Marlborough Avenue was not much out of her way, and the temptation to see for herself the scene of so much injury to people close to her was too much to resist. The place was easy to find. It had been roped off and a couple of UXB notices marked the spot. Had it not been so late she would have gone on from there to see the Elsworths, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. Danny must have told them what had happened by now, in any case.
Although it was getting dark, before she returned to Aunt Edie’s she knocked on the door of the woman who lived opposite Hannah, and whom she’d met before, and asked her to get a message to Trudie. She had a right to know what was happening to her granddaughter, and there was no guarantee she would find out from Hannah.
Chapter 27
George got home just before blackout at half-past eleven, looking dead on his feet, with the news that some kids playing in the debris of that bombed house on Marlborough Avenue had fallen into a camouflet, and were lucky to be alive.
‘Those kids were my brother and Jenny,’ Marie said, pouring two cups of weak and milkless tea.
‘Alfie? He should have been back in Dunswell.’
She handed him a cup. ‘Yeah, he should, but the little bugger decided he’d meet Danny Elsworth for a game of billiards before he went. There’s a scone there your mother left for you before she gave in and went to bed.’
He took the scone and walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room.
Marie followed. ‘What is a camouflet?’
‘It’s when a bomb goes off underground without enough of an explosion to break the surface, so that instead of a crater you get a hole filled with gas and smoke. Sometimes the crust will hold for weeks and stand walking on, sometimes it gives way at the first touch. I had an inkling it might have been Jenny, as soon as we got the news. I’ve warned her off what’s left of your old house a few times. But I never reckoned on Alfie.’
‘They’re both in the Children’s Hospital now.’
He gave a grim nod. ‘Well, they’re lucky. Fall into one of them and you stand a good chance of being gassed. They’re generally full of carbon monoxide. The bomb disposal lads will be there tomorrow, then there’ll be another job for the council, filling the hole in and making everything safe.’
‘Did you know it was Charles Elsworth that got them out?’
‘No, I didn’t. I didn’t even know he was at home.’
‘He’d written to tell me, but Aunt Edie put the letter on the mantelpiece, and forgot to mention it.’
His eyebrows twitched upwards, and he gave a wry smile. ‘Forgot? Aye, I’ll believe that. There are fairies at the bottom of our garden, as well. It’s pretty obvious our mothers are plotting to get us fixed up with each other.’
‘It hadn’t escaped me. No offence to you, George, but the snag is, I still love Charles. I only realized how much when I went to see him in the hospital, and told him he’d better marry Hannah. He said if I could look him in the eye and tell him I didn’t want him, he would. So I just stood there with my mouth open, and I couldn’t say a word.’
‘He called your bluff, then. But don’t you believe it. I’d bet everything I’ve got left that he wouldn’t have gone through with marrying Hannah, even if you had given him the boot. Only a lunatic would pick her as a life partner and the mother of his children.’
‘It looks as if she’s going to be the mother of one of his children, at least.’
‘Oh, yes, I should have remembered that before I opened my mouth. Trust me to put both my size nines in it.’
‘I’m absolutely churned up about it all, George.’
He gave her a look of the purest sympathy. ‘I pity you then, because I’ve got past that stage – well past it – and the proof is that we’ve tracked the actor down to Scarborough, and if Nancy won’t prosecute him, I’ll prosecute her. I’ll show her up in court. I’ll crush her, for what she did to me. How’s that for a cure for what ailed me?’
‘Pretty convincing,’ she said, slightly repelled by his vindictiveness, and by his pride in it.
‘Well, don’t despair. I was once as smitten as you are, and Nancy cured me in the end, just by being her devious, self-centred, deceitful little self. Fair dos, though, Charles risked a whiff of gas to get your brother and Jenny out of a hole. He deserves credit for that. But he’s an arrogant, selfish bugger at bottom, and when it finally dawns on you, the churning up will stop, and you’ll realize what a lucky escape you’ve had.’
‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘I hope to God the sirens don’t go tonight. That would just put the tin lid on it all.’
‘Wouldn’t it just,’ said George.
‘Don’t let yourself get carried away with gratitude, will you?’ Charles said, as they walked together in Pearson Park the following afternoon, after a visit to the Children’s Hospital to see Alfie. ‘I’ve moved heaven and earth to get a few days’ leave, and risked life and limb to rescue your delightful younger brother and his little pal, and you’ve hardly got a civil word for me.’
‘I am grateful to you. If Alfie had died . . . well, I don’t want to think about it. I’ve already said I’m grateful, and if that were all you’d been doing, I’d have a million civil words for you. But it’s not.’
‘Oh, her again. Well, I’m sorry, Marie. I’m really sorry. I’ve said I’m sorry a dozen times, and I mean it, but she absolutely threw herself at me. What man turns it down?’
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. ‘We were courting,’ she reminded him.
‘We weren’t engaged.’
‘No, we certainly weren’t engaged. My friends were beginning to think I’d die an old maid. You were never keen to get engaged at all, as I remember.’
‘I was keen. I just wasn’t keen on rushing it,’ he said. ‘Because I knew once I was engaged, it would have to finish with her. And I did. I told her she’d have to find another husband substitute before I gave you the ring.’
‘That must have been a wrench,’ she said, with a sarcastic little toss of her head.
Charles’s expression was wide-eyed, open and candid. ‘It was, to be honest. It’s a big hold over a man. If somebody’s dishing it up on a plate for him, he can hardly help himself.’
‘You can’t, obviously,’ she said, and a vision of their last parting on the station platform rose before her, when she’d thought him so tender and romantic. Now she knew him for the calculating, double-dealing swine he really was. He might have been grappling with Hannah that very morning, for all she knew. ‘No wonder you waited till the last bloody minute, though, hey?’ she said, and her disgust must have shown on her face.
‘Don’t look like that! I’d never have been able to keep up the good boy act with you otherwise. If it hadn’t been for her dispensing her favours, you might have got ravished. Because you never let the brakes off! You’ve never let yourself go yet.’
And no wonder, Marie thought. She’d always had her father’s warnings ringing in her ears: Don’t you dare bring any trouble home. We’ve enough to do without that, thank you very much. And judging by Hannah and Nancy and the mess they’d caused, her father had been right, as well. ‘What I can’t understand,’ she said, coldly, ‘is why you ever started it in the first place. She’s at least ten years older than you, and she was your mother�
�s cleaner, for heaven’s sake. Talk about fouling your own nest. Not to mention the fact that she’s married.’
‘For the umpteenth time, Marie, I didn’t start it; I’d never have thought of it. I was a good little boy, till I met her.’
‘Oh, pull the other one.’
‘It’s God’s honest truth. Look, I’ll come clean. I’ll tell you absolutely everything, make a good confession like they taught us when we were in infants’ school, then you might stop going on about it. I was in bed late because I’d been a bit merry the night before. Mum was out with the WVS, Danny was at school and Dad was down at the repair shop, and she came into my bedroom and simply got in beside me. I wasn’t even awake at the start; it was like some sort of fevered dream. You’ve seen her, how she walks, how strong she is. She’s an Amazon. She was like some sort of wild animal. If I’d been wide awake, I’d have been terrified.’
It was the first time Marie had heard the details, and the thought of poor Chas cowering under his sheets sent a tiny smile flickering across her face. ‘Why terrified?’ she asked.
‘Why? Because it’s not what you expect. It’s not the accepted way of going about things. It was scary at first because she made all the advances. It makes you feel like prey. I certainly understood what women feel like after the first time or two with her.’
‘But you carried on.’
‘It was exciting. And then later on, having her, at will, whenever I wanted, made me feel ten feet tall. In the end I didn’t feel as if I could do without it. Not without her,’ he hastened to add, looking her full in the face, ‘without it.’
That was rather too much detail for Marie. ‘Don’t then,’ she flared. ‘Don’t let me stand in your way. If she’s so wild and exciting and animal that she makes you feel ten feet tall, you’d better get after her while you’ve got the chance.’
‘I don’t want the chance. Because I don’t love her. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a bloody wild animal.’ He tried to put his arm round her shoulder, but she shook him off. ‘Come on, Marie,’ he coaxed. ‘Have a heart. It’s over and done with.’
‘How is it over and done with, when she’s carrying your child?’ she blazed. ‘It goes on for ever!’ She threw up her hands in a gesture of anger and frustration. ‘And how you expected to carry on like that and not get her pregnant is beyond me.’
‘The same way a lot of chaps do, by being careful. By getting off at Dunswell rather than going on to Hull. So to speak.’
‘You missed your stop, then.’
He muttered something she couldn’t hear.
‘What did you say?’ she demanded.
‘I said I’d like to miss my stop with you. Several of them. You might like it as well. It might improve your temper. Look, I’ve still got that special licence in my pocket. We could get down to the registrar and tie the knot tomorrow before I have to pack up and go back to base. Rents are astronomical in the safer areas, but I’ve made a few enquiries and, with the married man’s allowance, we could just afford it. Somewhere for you and your mother to live until the end of the war, I mean.’
Exhausted by everything, and especially by her efforts to get through to the morally defective, overgrown child beside her, Marie slumped wearily down onto a park bench and gazed unseeing at the still water of the pond. ‘Oh, Chas,’ she sighed, ‘what a shambles. I couldn’t move my mother anywhere, she’s far too ill. Aunt Edie helps me with her, and keeps her fairly cheerful. I wouldn’t like to have to manage without her now. My mother’s better off where she is. And George is good to her as well. He even offered to pay for the doctor.’
Charles flung himself down beside her, scowling. ‘I don’t want George paying for the doctor; I don’t want George paying for anything to do with you. I’ll pay for it.’
‘You know, Chas, this might be hard for you to grasp, but what you want is not the only consideration. You sometimes come up against what other people want.’
‘Well, what do you want? Just tell me.’
‘I knew exactly what I wanted once, and now I’m not so sure. Everything seemed so simple and straightforward before, and now it’s complicated and, well . . . dirtied, somehow.’
He was silent. She turned to look at him, and saw that his hazel eyes were clouded, and his face drawn with anxiety. ‘That’s why you don’t want to get married. It’s nothing to do with your mother.’
‘Maybe. There’s a lot to think about.’
‘They tell you that confession’s good for the soul,’ he said. ‘Well, it ought to be, because it’s no bloody good for anything else.’
She softened a little. ‘I wouldn’t say that. I’m glad you’ve been honest.’
He looked a bit more hopeful. ‘I’ve been a reckless, irresponsible fool,’ he said, ‘and I’m sorry.’
‘Just try to get it through your skull that a baby is no trivial matter, will you? It’s serious, and you’ve got to face it.’
‘I will,’ he said, ‘I will, if it’s mine – but it might not be. Have you thought about that?’
She gave up.
Quite a quantity of Mrs Elsworth’s flowers seemed to have survived the digging for victory campaign. Glorious yellow rambling roses covered the pergola, honeysuckle climbed the garden walls alongside beans and purple clematis. The red rose bushes had also escaped. California poppies, marigolds and nasturtiums blazed among the vegetables, and fat bees burrowed deep into the snapdragons, mining for nectar. It was all a feast for the eyes, and balm to Marie’s spirit. But for the sturdy Anderson shelter, she could almost have forgotten there was a war on. The family were sitting round the cast-iron garden table, and Mrs Elsworth had the bone-china teapot poised to pour the tea. She looked up and smiled, but seemed very subdued, as did Mr Elsworth and Danny.
‘How’s Alfie?’ she asked, when Charles had disappeared into the house for two extra cups and saucers.
‘He’s getting well enough to be a nuisance. They’ll probably discharge him when the doctor’s had a look at him. Tomorrow morning, at the latest. We couldn’t find anything out about Jenny, though,’ Marie said.
Danny suddenly got up and walked off down the garden.
‘What’s the matter with him?’ she asked.
Mr Elsworth put a finger to his lips, and nobody spoke until Charles came back with the cups, then Mrs Elsworth broke the silence.
‘Jenny’s died,’ she said, in hushed tones. ‘We just had it from the people in Newland Park. Hannah told them. Danny’s taken it rather badly, I’m afraid. He says he should have been first down that hole, and if he had been, he’d have been able to lift her, and she’d still be alive.’
It was strange, but for all the times she’d warned Jenny away from dangerous places, Marie had never really expected her to come to any serious harm. She’d thought of the little street Arab as having as many lives as a cat. The shock hit her hard. ‘Knowing Alfie, he’d have been like greased lightning,’ she said. ‘Danny wouldn’t have had the chance to be first.’
Charles looked upset, and surprised. ‘He can’t blame himself,’ he protested. ‘He did everything he could for her. It was just one of those freaky accidents. It was nobody’s fault, especially not Danny’s.’
‘Well, that’s not what he thinks.’
‘Silly boy,’ Charles said. He put down his cup and went down the garden in search of Danny.
Marie knew whose fault the whole episode was, but she kept her own counsel. Openly blaming a grieving mother for her child’s death would be bad form, and what good could it do anyway? Nothing could bring Jenny back to life. Her thoughts flew to Alfie, and Trudie. Neither of them was likely to take the news of Jenny’s death very well, either.
‘They’re burying her on Monday. There’ll be a service at that church at the end of the street, and then the cortège will go to Northern Cemetery,’ the neighbour from the house opposite Hannah’s said, when Marie opened the door to her at Aunt Edie’s house. ‘Trudie told me to let you know. How’s your Alfie
?’
‘It’s knocked him for six. He still feels washed out. I’m just getting a meal for us all, and then I’m taking him back to Dunswell where he’ll be safe.’
‘Your fiancé turned out to be quite a hero, didn’t he? How is he?’
A slight stress on the words ‘your fiancé’, and the all-too-innocent expression on the woman’s face, made Marie suspect that her curiosity was not entirely confined to Charles’s heroism. ‘He’s made a full recovery. He went back to the army this morning,’ she said, giving nothing else away. If this woman was expecting some verdict on their courtship she was going to be disappointed. Marie hardly knew herself what she would do.
Alfie came to the door. ‘What time is it? What time is the funeral?’
‘Oh, I forgot to say. Two o’clock. He does look peaky, doesn’t he?’
Alfie disappeared back into the house, while the neighbour extolled his bravery and presence of mind, and lamented the fact that his efforts had not been better rewarded, or her fiancés either, for that matter.
Marie cut her short. ‘Did Hannah tell Trudie about the funeral?’
‘Aye. I don’t know whether she would have, but Trudie went to the hospital late last night. She was with Jenny when she died, and if Hannah had tried to get rid of her I think she’d have swung for her. Hannah’s crying poverty now because Larry’s pay stopped the minute his ship went down, so Trudie’s paying for the funeral.’
‘Well, she loved her granddaughter,’ Marie said, ‘and it was obvious that Jenny loved her.’
‘She did. I could hardly look her in the face when she told me, I feel that bad about it all. I used to have Jenny in my house for hours on end while Hannah was gadding off here and there –and then my husband got fed up with it, and put a stop to her coming.’
‘Are we going then?’ Alfie demanded, when she got back to the dining room, which doubled as a sitting room when her mother was asleep, or needing peace and quiet. ‘To Jenny’s funeral? I wouldn’t be welcome, Alfie.’
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