Always I'Ll Remember

by Bradshaw, Rita

  Ivor looked at Audrey as she walked across the room. The cut of the expensive suit, the classy high heels which emphasised the slim firmness of her legs made her look like a million dollars, he thought worriedly.

  He’d gone through hell on earth when he had thought he’d lost her, but since she had taken him back he had found it was hell of a different kind. He was terrified he might lose her again and this time permanently, that some bloke, younger or richer or more intelligent and amusing than him, would steal her away and that would be that. It could happen, oh aye, because Audrey’s feelings for him were not what they once had been. She was still kind and warm, and in the privacy of their big bed as generous with her loving, but now something was held back. Some part of her which once had been his was no longer given. Or was it more that an armour was in place now? A barrier he knew he could not penetrate?

  When she stood in the doorway and said, ‘Well? Are you coming?’ Ivor nodded, telling himself as he did a hundred times a day that it would be all right. She was his wife, wasn’t she? And underneath this perfectly groomed, attractive veneer, the essence of the old Audrey remained. But it was hollow comfort. And now there was this wedding to get through and, whatever Audrey might say, he knew Abby wasn’t the same with him.

  Did it matter? he thought as he followed Audrey into the corridor. No, not at all, he answered himself. He hadn’t seen his niece for years and it wouldn’t bother him if he never saw her again, if he was being truthful. Just so long as her coolness wasn’t anything to do with what had happened between himself and her mother, that was the thing. Then it might have the potential to explode in their faces and cause trouble between himself and Audrey if everything got raked up again. But Abby couldn’t know. Nora wouldn’t have told her, surely; she’d gain nothing by doing so. No, he was being daft, but all things considered he’d be glad when this day was over.

  Some miles away Abby was thinking exactly the same thing. At first light everyone in the house had been rudely awakened by the sound of fierce banging on the front door which had seemed to shake the rafters. Abby and Rowena had met the others on the landing, and after Abby had told Winnie to stay upstairs with Clara and little Joy, she had gone downstairs followed by Rowena and Gladys.

  Vincent was on the doorstep and it was clear he was in the grip of a furious rage. ‘You knew, didn’t you? You knew about that one,’ he indicated Rowena with a vicious stab of his hand, ‘and that dirty little Eyetie.’

  ‘I beg your pardon!’ Before Abby could answer, Rowena shoved her out of the way, her eyes sparking. ‘Mario is ten times the man you’ll ever be and don’t you dare refer to him in that way.’

  Abby pulled her friend back when it looked as if she was going to strike Vincent but it took both her and Gladys to hold the angry woman. ‘Get off this property.’ She glared at Vincent whilst trying to restrain Rowena. ‘You’re not welcome here.’

  ‘Been spying on me all this time, haven’t you?’ He was beside himself. ‘Telling them to do the least work they can so I get deeper into the mire. I know, I know.’

  ‘You heard what Abby said, get off our land.’ None of them had heard Winnie come up behind them but suddenly she was there, and she was holding the shotgun they’d found buried under a pile of junk in the barn. They had cleaned off the cobwebs and dirt and given it a bit of a polish but had had no intention of getting any cartridges for it, deciding to stick it in the cupboard under the stairs in case some day they needed to warn off any undesirables. None of them had imagined that day would come so quickly though.

  Vincent stared at Winnie for a moment and then he folded his arms, his voice a touch calmer as he said, ‘You wouldn’t use that on me, not you.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid.’

  ‘I’m not stupid, Vincent, but that’s something you’ve never really understood. Mind, going with you could have been termed stupid, but everyone’s allowed one mistake in life.’

  They all saw he was taken aback, but none of them expected what came next. ‘Shirley’s gone, Winnie. I threw her out. If you and the child want to come back I’m prepared to take you both on, all right? Marriage too if you want it. I can’t say fairer than that. And Mam?’ His glance went to Gladys who was still holding tight to Rowena. ‘You’re welcome back an’ all. No hard feelings.’

  The sheer arrogance of the man! To come here ranting and raving one minute and the next to act as though he was handing out favours. Abby was dumbstruck.

  Not so Winnie. She didn’t look at Gladys and she kept the shotgun trained on Vincent’s chest when she said, ‘If your tart has gone it’s because she’s had enough of having to work for the first time in her life, not because you threw her out. Like I said, I’m not stupid. And I’d rather cut me own throat and the bairn’s an’ all than ever set foot in your place again.’

  His eyes narrowed but he still refused to recognise his power over her had gone. His voice softer, he said, ‘Winnie, lass, don’t be like that. I admit I made a few mistakes but nothing I can’t put right if you’ll let me. Remember how it used to be between us, eh? We had some good times, didn’t we? And it’s all mine now, the farm, everything. Don’t forget that.’

  ‘I’m not forgetting a thing; I’m remembering, in fact.’ Her tone was icy.

  ‘What about her, the nipper? Don’t you want her to have a name?’

  If he thought he’d hit her below the belt, Winnie proved him wrong. She hadn’t raised her voice throughout the exchange and she didn’t raise it now when she said, ‘She has a name and it’s a good one. She also has a future, as do I, and it’s not linked with you. You were right to question whether you’re her father. You’re not, OK? So you have no right to her at all.’

  ‘You’re lying.’

  Abby wasn’t the only one who thought it ironic how things had turned round.

  ‘Prove it.’ Winnie eyed him steadily. ‘And now get off my property before I mistake you for a thief and shoot you.’

  ‘Mam?’ Vincent hadn’t moved an inch. ‘Are you in this with them? The farm’s going down the drain, everything Dad ever worked for, and they’re doing their bit to help it along. I wondered why those bits of scum were dragging their heels and now I know.’

  Gladys let go of Rowena’s arm, her jaw working. This was her lad and whatever he’d done she still loved him. She stared into his infuriated face and her voice was husky when she said, ‘They are good men, Vincent, but you’ve never been able to distinguish between good and bad company or you would have made an honest woman of Winnie when you had the chance. When you brought your fancy woman into my home you told me I had to toe the line or else. I chose the or else and this is my home now. I’m not leaving. Those men have worked hard for you because Rowena’s told us so, and that in spite of how you’ve behaved, but they can’t do double the work, however much you create. You got rid of three of the best workers you’re ever likely to have when you threw Abby and the others out and you lost a damn good housekeeper in me, boy.’

  ‘You don’t care I might lose Dad’s farm if I can’t keep up the quotas?’

  ‘It’s not Josiah’s farm, it’s yours. You told me that often enough when I was still there and you fair hammered it home the day you brought your floozy in. I’ve a stake in this place and this is part mine.’ Her voice softer, she added, ‘Go and see someone in authority, plead your case. Beg if you have to.’

  ‘Don’t you think I haven’t already done that?’

  ‘Then pay the going rate and hire some men. It doesn’t have to be POWs or land girls.’

  ‘Of course it does, you stupid woman.’ For a moment his frustration was foremost. ‘I can’t afford top whack, it’s as simple as that.’

  ‘That’s enough.’ Abby saw that Gladys was close to tears. ‘You’ve had your say, now go.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll go all right.’ His gaze swung from his mother to Abby, and he actually ground his teeth before saying, ‘You lot aren’t the only ones who can use a gun. There�
��s been many a night I’ve shot a fox breaking into the hen cree or skulking round the barns. I just hope I don’t mistake her fancy fella,’ his eyes fastened on Rowena for a moment, ‘for vermin because that’d be a right shame, wouldn’t it? With them so lovey dovey, I mean.’

  ‘You try anything like that and we’ll all see you go down the line for it,’ Abby warned him, now hanging on to Rowena once more, who was swearing like a trooper at Vincent.

  ‘Huh!’ He backed away a few steps, his voice thick with bitterness as he growled, ‘Like your dear friend said earlier, you’d have to prove it.’

  Rowena continued struggling until the farm lorry had disappeared out of the square yard in front of the house, then she collapsed on Abby, crying hysterically.

  Between them they got her into the kitchen and sat her down. The level of brandy in one of Ike’s bottles went down sharply in the next few minutes as Abby poured them all a measure which would have cost a fortune in a pub. But the neat spirit helped dispel the shock the ugly encounter had caused, and by the time Gladys had made a pot of strong tea and Clara had brought Joy downstairs, some normality had returned.

  ‘You don’t think he’d really hurt Mario, do you?’ Rowena sat pulling at her nightdress, smoothing it as if it was of vital importance all the creases were flattened.

  ‘No I don’t,’ Abby said firmly. ‘It was an empty threat to frighten you. He values his hide too much and he knows we’d have him up in court before he could blink. Besides which I can’t see Roberto and Luigi standing by and letting him shoot Mario without getting involved, can you? It’s one thing to make a mistake and shoot one man, quite another to make the same mistake three times. But I tell you what, we’ll let Ike go and see him and put the wind up him. Ike might be the gentlest soul on earth but Vincent doesn’t know that.’

  ‘Oh Abby, when am I ever going to see him now?’ And then Rowena’s face suddenly changed and she clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘It’s your wedding day! Abby, it’s your wedding day.’

  ‘I know,’ said Abby a touch wryly.

  ‘What a start to it. Oh, I’m sorry, dear, I really am.’ Abby found herself engulfed in a big hug. ‘You mustn’t think of this for a second again today. We can’t let Vincent spoil things.’

  By the time the taxi Ike had hired brought Wilbert to the house later that morning, Abby was dressed in the wedding finery that sixty clothing coupons and hard cash had bought. The yearly allowance was sixty-six coupons per person and the other three women and even Clara had contributed generously to the occasion. When Abby was ready they all declared their sacrifice had been worth it.

  ‘You look beautiful, lass.’ Winnie was wiping her eyes. ‘The bonniest bride this side of heaven an’ no mistake.’

  Abby hugged her, careless of the cream brocade wedding gown and hooded cloak in the same material which was trimmed with imitation fur. She hugged each one of them, clasping Clara to her the longest. She looked remarkably grown up in her bridesmaid’s dress of blue velvet, again with a matching cloak. Clara’s dress had been made by a local dressmaker and Abby had bought enough material to have a miniature version made for Joy as a surprise for Winnie on the day. The presentation of this an hour earlier had started Winnie’s tears and they hadn’t really stopped since.

  Outside, the day was bitterly cold; desultory flakes of thin snow whirled haphazardly in a north-east wind which cut to the bone. But Abby was warm, and it was nothing to do with the fire blazing in the hearth in the sitting room. She was so fortunate to have this family - and it was a family even if their root wasn’t genetic - behind her.

  She had mourned her father being unable to give her away the night before, shedding a few tears in the privacy of darkness, but this morning she felt at peace. She was marrying a wonderful man who loved her deeply, she had those she loved around her and that was enough. Her mother, Ivor, the whole sorry situation would be put on the back burner today and she wouldn’t let it intrude, any more than she would allow the unpleasant start to the morning to sour the occasion. This was her and Ike’s day and she was going to enjoy it to the full.

  Wilbert’s eyes were full of pride as he led her to the waiting taxi, the one behind it designated for the other three women, Clara and Joy. He had been horrified when Winnie had quickly put him in the picture about Vincent’s unwelcome arrival at the house that morning, and deeply indignant. Now, as the car drew away from the house to begin its journey to the register office, he mistook Abby’s quiet serenity for worry, thinking she was fretting about the incident. Determined to take her mind off it, he said, ‘Who’d have thought it, lass? You marrying a doctor an’ an American one at that.’ Like most of the folk in the streets where they had been brought up Wilbert considered a doctor only one step down from a priest, and to be greatly revered.

  Abby brought her gaze from the snowy fields beyond the car window and smiled a little absently.

  ‘Funny,’ Wilbert rattled on, trying to do his best, ‘but I could never see you living anywhere else than our parts, but here you are in Yorkshire with your own business an’ all.’ He shook his head in wonder. ‘All I can say, lass, is that whatever went on between you and James you ended up smelling of roses.’

  ‘James?’ Wilbert had her full attention now. Her brother was one of the nicest people on earth and she was shocked he could bring James’s name up at such a moment. And there had been something in his tone she couldn’t put her finger on.

  ‘Aye, James Benson.’ Wilbert looked embarrassed at her reaction. ‘Oh, I’m not prying, don’t think that, I’m just saying that whatever went on between you two, you’ve done as well as him in the end.’

  For a moment Abby didn’t speak; then, looking at him, she said, ‘I don’t understand what you mean, Wilbert.’

  Wilbert stretched his neck, easing the starched collar of his shirt. ‘I mean him marrying that lass whose da owns the big accountancy firm in the High Street, I forget the name. I saw them at the Palace one night a few months back when I’d just started courting Lucy, and when I said I thought I knew the bloke, she said she’d worked in the firm as a temp in the typing pool for a while and that his name was Benson and the woman was his wife.’

  Abby felt weak and faint. She swallowed, knowing she had to say something. But she couldn’t.

  ‘Still, like I said, you’ve done right grand for yourself, lass, and your Ike is a champion fella.’

  She managed a mumbled, ‘Yes, yes he is.’

  ‘An’ I like his folks an’ all. I thought they might be a bit stuck up, them being well off and Americans an’ all that, but they’re salt of the earth. Like him.’

  ‘Yes, they are. Wilbert, I’ve . . . got a bit of a headache. Could we just sit quiet until we get there?’

  ‘Aye, lass, of course. You should have said.’ Wilbert patted her hand and settled back in his seat.

  By the time the taxi reached its destination Abby knew she had to have a few more minutes to compose herself. In spite of her request, Wilbert had talked on and off the whole way and her head was whirling. Nearly everyone was waiting inside the building but Audrey had stayed outside, and now she came running to meet them, her face one big smile which faded when she saw the expression on Abby’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’ In one of the characteristic gestures Abby remembered, her aunt unceremoniously thrust Wilbert to one side. ‘You feeling bad?’

  Abby nodded. She was feeling bad but not from nerves as her aunt probably assumed. ‘Have they got a lavatory here? I need a couple of minutes . . .’

  She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Before the taxi bearing the others had even arrived, Audrey had whisked her into the building and into the Ladies which, thankfully, turned out to be one small cubicle which meant her aunt had to wait outside. After closing the door and sliding the bolt, Abby stood with her back to it, her hand covering her eyes, and she whispered to herself, ‘James, James, how could you?’ He was alive. Alive. And married to someone else. All the time she had been grieving and mourning
him he had been alive.

  She stared at the wall sightlessly, dry-eyed, but she was crying through every pore of her body. He had come back from the war and he had married someone else. It seemed ludicrous, impossible, but she didn’t question the truth of Wilbert’s words; he wouldn’t have spoken out like he had if he’d been unsure of his facts. She felt herself shrinking, shrivelling down to nothing.

  She was never very sure of how long she stood there but after a while Audrey’s voice penetrated the vacuum and she forced herself to come back to the present. She called out that she was nearly ready, opening her eyes which had been tightly shut and staring at herself in the small square mirror. A chalk-white face with eyes so dark they appeared black looked back at her. Automatically she began to pinch her cheeks and bite her lips to give herself some colour, a strange calmness settling on her.

  Ike was waiting for her in there and he had all his nearest and dearest watching, along with her family. Whatever she was feeling she had to act the eager bride right now, nothing else would do. And nothing had changed, not really. James was still gone from her as he had been the last few years, it was just the reason for his absence which had altered. She breathed deeply, watching the figure in the mirror with curious detachment. There was a weak sensation churning through her but she would not give in to it, she told herself dully. This was her wedding day and Ike deserved a radiant bride. Well, she would be radiant, she would laugh and glow and shine all day long. For him. For her Ike.