by Annie Groves
‘Tell me again what happened,’ said Gwen.
So Connie told her mother about the crash and the flames that came up between Kenneth’s legs. She told her about his burnt hand and how it had seized up until Mr McIndoe had managed after four operations to get some limited movement back into it. ‘He couldn’t even feel his face,’ Connie explained. ‘He said he vaguely remembered them dragging him out of the cockpit and rolling him on the ground, but he’d been burnt on the whole of his right side and they’ve had to rebuild his nose.’
‘So what was the elephant trunk thing?’ asked Gwen, clearly alarmed.
‘A skin graft,’ said Connie. ‘They’ve taken skin from another part of his body and put it on his face. It was still attached to the place where they’ve taken it from because they don’t want the skin to die.’
There was a brief lull in conversation and then Connie said, ‘The hospital wrote to you several times but you never replied.’
‘What are you saying?’ said Gwen crossly. ‘Do you really think that I would abandon my own son? I never had any letters, Connie.’
‘That’s what I told them,’ said Connie. ‘I felt sure that if you knew where Kenny was, you would have moved heaven and earth to be with him, but they insist that they definitely wrote to you.’
‘Maybe they wrote to the old address,’ said Gwen.
‘They had the right address,’ said Connie shaking her head. ‘When you didn’t reply, they tried my address at the hospital.’
‘So why didn’t I get the letters?’ said Gwen, puzzled. ‘I don’t understand.’
Connie said nothing. She still had her suspicions but she didn’t want to be the one to point the finger at Ga. After all, she had no proof.
‘Mum, please forgive me for hurting you,’ said Connie, her eyes filling with tears again. ‘This has weighed heavily on my mind for so long. I wanted to tell you …’
Her mother leaned over and took Connie in her arms. ‘I think from now on we have to promise each other that no matter how difficult a thing is, we mustn’t keep secrets from each other,’ she said.
Connie nodded. ‘But Ken …’
‘Shh, shh, shh,’ said Gwen. ‘I shall tell Kenneth the same thing, don’t you worry. Now tell me where he is.’
‘I’ll take you in the morning, if you like,’ said Connie. ‘I’m not doing anything much.’
‘No,’ said Gwen. ‘I want some time with him on my own. Tomorrow is Ascension Day. Mandy goes to school then they all go to the Anglican church for a service and she’s got the rest of the day off. You’d be doing me a great favour if you would look after her.’
Connie nodded again. ‘There’s one more thing, Mum.’
Her mother’s face paled and she groaned. ‘Oh Connie … now what?’
‘No, you’ll like this,’ Connie promised. ‘Kenny is engaged.’
‘Engaged?’ Gwen gasped. ‘But I thought you said …’
‘She’s his nurse, so she knows all there is to know about him. She’s a lovely girl. Her name is Pearl. I think you’ll like her a lot.’
‘But what sort of a marriage will they have if he’s so badly burned?’
‘You wait until you see her, Mum,’ said Connie. ‘Yes, he’s scarred but that doctor has worked wonders. I think once he’s finished all the treatment, Kenny has every chance of having a good life.’
Gwen shook her head in disbelief. ‘When I was a young woman, I saw men come back from the Great War,’ she sighed. ‘They had horrible open wounds …’
‘Kenny’s not a bit like that, Mum.’
Her mother yawned and stood up. ‘Not a word of this to Ga,’ she warned.
‘I thought you said no more secrets,’ Connie remarked.
‘I don’t want her sticking her oar in,’ said Gwen fiercely. ‘So please Connie, say nothing.’
The first grey light of dawn was coming through the window. Pip stretched and yawned before returning to his bed and flopping down although there was only about two hours left to sleep.
‘Night, Mum,’ Connie said wearily as they made their way back to bed. As she lay between the sheets, her head was pounding. It was a weight off her mind now that her mother knew about Kenneth. Connie knew that it was the stress of the past few weeks that had made her work in the hospital suffer. If only she could take a break, a holiday and give herself a chance to wind down and have a bit of peace and quiet in her life, but it was impossible.
Her mother left before anyone was up. Connie decided that while Mandy was in her Ascension Day service, she would take the opportunity to go to the Frenchie’s workshop. She wanted to see if he knew what had happened to Isaac’s caravan.
‘You do know he’s virtually closed down,’ said Clifford at the breakfast table.
‘Yes,’ said Connie, ‘I had heard that. What happened?’
Clifford shrugged. ‘It might have something to do with breaking up with Mavis Hampton.’
Connie’s heart jumped. Eugène had broken up with Mavis? Connie forced herself not to think about it as she deliberately changed the subject. ‘Clifford, do you know what happened to Isaac’s caravan and his old jalopy?’
‘Isn’t it still in the field?’
‘Apparently not,’ said Connie.
‘Then the Frenchie must have moved it,’ said Clifford. Connie was about to ask where but they both heard Ga taking her boots off by the back door. Clifford’s chair scraped along the stone floor as he stood up and left the table. As she watched him go, it suddenly occurred to her that he couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as Ga. Clifford had always been a quiet man but he was avoiding Ga as much as he could these days.
‘Where’s your mother gone so early in the morning?’ said Ga sitting down at the table. ‘I hope she’s not expecting me to look after Mandy when she gets back.’
‘I’m looking after Mandy,’ said Connie, ‘and Mum’s gone to East Grinstead.’
‘East Grinstead?’ said Ga. ‘Whatever for?’
Connie just looked at her and then she saw Ga’s face colour as the realisation dawned. ‘Oh, I think you already know that, Ga,’ she said pointedly.
The old woman straightened herself with a sniff. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said haughtily. At the same moment, Mandy came thundering down the stair so Connie had to let it go. It would be better not to pick a fight in front of the child.
‘Mandy, sit up straight,’ Ga snapped as Connie’s sister slid onto her chair. ‘You’re late. It’s nearly time to go. In fact, you’ll have to go without breakfast this morning. Go and put your shoes on.’
Mandy’s face crumpled.
‘It’s all right,’ said Connie. ‘She doesn’t have to be there yet. She’s only got to be in time to be in the crocodile to go to the service.’
Mandy slid back onto her chair and Connie pushed her boiled egg in front of her. ‘When the service is over,’ she said, ‘we’ll come back and change, and then I’ll take you out.’
‘We could do with some help around here,’ said Ga. ‘Especially with Gwen off somewhere … gallivanting.’
‘Sorry,’ said Connie brightly. ‘I’m afraid we’re busy.’ Her heart was thumping and she willed her voice not to quiver. Mandy stared at her wide-eyed.
Ga stood up from the table. ‘Really, Constance, I have never known anyone quite as selfish as you.’
Connie ignored the barbed comment and her great aunt left the room banging the door behind her.
The door to the workshop was open. Connie walked inside and called. Her voice echoed around the empty void that had once been a busy workshop. She couldn’t believe how different it was from the last time she was here. All the bicycle paraphernalia was gone. Last time she’d been there, there had been several cars and vans in various stages of repair, but they’d all gone too. She turned to leave and saw Isaac and the Frenchie walking up the path together.
‘Connie,’ cried Eugène, ‘how nice to see you.’
‘The door was open,�
� she said apologetically. She studied his handsome face and was worried. He seemed tired … no, haggard and drawn even and she longed to run her hand down his cheek. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said indicating the workshop.
He shrugged.
‘How is Mavis?’ Connie fished. ‘Is her leg better?’
‘I no longer care,’ he said angrily. ‘She has ruined me.’
‘Where are all your things?’
‘The bailiffs took them in lieu of my debts,’ he said bitterly. ‘They left me one box of tools, that’s all. And wouldn’t you know it? All my friends are suddenly very busy. Fair-weather friends the lot of them.’ He spat on the ground.
She couldn’t blame him for feeling bitter but this was a side to him that wasn’t very attractive.
‘You’ve still got me,’ said Isaac.
‘A penniless man and an ex-jailbird,’ he scoffed. ‘We should go far.’ He laughed bitterly ‘A fat lot of good you are to me.’
Isaac’s face fell and Connie saw a darkness fill his eyes. Something inside her rose up. ‘That’s not fair,’ she said crossly. ‘You have every right to feel angry and betrayed, but no right whatsoever to take it out on him.’
‘But he has such unrealistic expectations!’ cried Eugène. ‘I am not God, you know. We have no money and no premises. How can we service vehicles when we have nowhere to work on them? How can I repair bicycles with nowhere to keep stock? I don’t even have a motor to move my caravan.’
‘You told me once that you had bought some land,’ said Isaac.
‘A postage stamp,’ said Eugène. ‘I now discover that it had been up for sale for years but nobody wanted to buy. Even if I could sell it again, it’s worthless.’
‘Couldn’t you build a new workshop there?’ Connie suggested.
‘The guy who sold it to me saw me coming,’ said Eugène bitterly. ‘It might be beside the sea but apparently you’re not allowed to build on it. All I have is a dirty pond and a few overgrown bushes.’
‘Can you at least put the caravan there?’ she said.
‘Where?’ he challenged. ‘In the middle of the pond?’
Connie felt helpless. She couldn’t leave them as they were but what could she do? All she had was a couple of quid which she was going to use to buy Mandy lunch out. She thought about all the people Eugène had helped when the snow came. Perhaps they hadn’t really turned their back on him. They would have helped if they could, but they were as poor as the next man. And what about Isaac? Left to his own devices, he’d be back in jail in no time. Then Connie remembered Kez.
‘You’ve still got Isaac’s car, haven’t you?’
‘I told you,’ said Isaac, ‘I went there and it’s gone.’
Eugène ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I forgot to tell you. I moved it further into Titnore woods for safety. Sorry.’
A wave of relief spread over Isaac’s face.
‘Isaac, go and see Kez,’ said Connie as she secretly stuffed the two pounds into his hand. ‘She’s doing well. Simeon started a business and I know he’s bought some land over Slinden way. Take Eugène with you. They know how kind he was to Reuben. It’s time to call in a favour or two. Go and see Kez.’ And then before either of them could protest, she walked away.
Gwen Craig waited nervously in the little office. She was dressed in her Sunday best suit, white blouse and she wore a brown hat. She had no stockings but her legs were fairly brown so she felt she could get away with it. Just in case, she tucked her legs under the chair as she sat primly holding her handbag on her lap.
She had spoken with Kenneth’s doctor and listened with mounting horror as he described what her son had been through. She bristled as he told her of what he’d suffered because the previous hospital didn’t know how to deal with his injuries, and she relaxed a little as he told her of the progress Kenneth had made since being at the Royal Victoria. She appreciated that the doctor and his team were doing the best they could for her son, but she’d heard enough explanation … now she just wanted to see him.
‘We have to respect his wishes,’ said the doctor. ‘I think you must brace yourself, Mrs Craig. He may refuse to see you.’
It was a sentiment completely incomprehensible to Gwen. ‘But I’m his mother,’ she said tartly.
‘Precisely,’ said the doctor, a seasoned diplomat. ‘Sometimes our boys find it hardest to face those who are their nearest and dearest.’
So she’d been left in the office while he went to find her son and ask him.
The room was sparsely decorated. The walls were cream at the top and evergreen below the dado rail. There was a desk and chair, a clutter of papers and folders on the top of the filing cabinet and a wastepaper basket, chock-a-block full, next to her. A doctor’s white coat hung from a hook on the back of the door. Not a very tidy place but she noted with some gratitude that it was spotlessly clean. She had seen a ward cleaner mopping the floor as she came in, a tired looking woman with grey hair and a lined face, who looked as if she felt unappreciated and probably taken for granted. Gwen determined that she would compliment her on the way out.
The door opened and a pleasant-faced nurse walked in. ‘Good morning, Mrs Craig,’ she smiled. ‘I’ll take you to see your son now, if you would like to follow me.’
Gwen had rehearsed in her own mind everything she would say when she saw Kenneth but all her romantic speeches evaporated when she saw her son. Thank God, her wartime stoicism kicked in. Fixing a bright smile on her face, she walked towards him. Oh God, look at your poor face. ‘Hello, darling.’ She put her arms out and he struggled to his feet. Dear Lord, what happened to your fingers? They never said you’d lost all your fingers on that hand. ‘Don’t get up, dear. It’ all right.’
‘Hello, Mum.’
Your eye is drooping.
‘It’s lovely to see you again.’ She felt the warmth of his body as he put his arms around her but she didn’t squeeze. Who knew what was lurking under that uniform of his? He was taller than she remembered. He’d grown up. Grown up and been shot down. Oh Kenneth, Kenneth. They released each other and the nurse had put a chair in place for her. Gwen turned to thank her.
‘Mum, this is Pearl.’
Gwen looked up at her. Pretty … well-rounded figure, a trustworthy open face. Oh Kenneth, you’ve lost all the hair on one side of your head, and your ear … it looks almost as if it has melted.
‘Hello, dear.’
Kenneth put his hand out and Pearl went to his side and grasped it. ‘Pearl and I are to be married.’
‘That’s nice, dear.’ Connie was right. She looks like a nice girl. She’d look after you but what sort of marriage will you have? Didn’t Connie say the flames came up between your legs? What about … down there?
‘I’m sorry I refused to see you, Mum,’ said Kenneth. ‘I didn’t want you to worry.’
‘That’s all right, dear.’
Gwen was aware that she sounded like an automaton but it was the only way she could keep the smile on her face and the tears at bay.
‘You obviously must have a lot to talk about,’ said Pearl. ‘I’ll get you some tea.’
She’s so young. Too young. Why would she want to saddle herself with a cripple?
‘Isn’t she wonderful?’ said Kenneth as he watched her go inside.
‘Yes dear, she’s very pretty.’ I don’t want her hurting you. She might love you here in this setting but what happens when you are both in a little flat on your own and you can’t give her babies?
‘Mum,’ he began. ‘It’s all right. You don’t have to be brave. You can have a cry if you want to.’
If I start, I won’t stop.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ said Gwen brokenly.
‘You don’t have to do anything, Mum. I’m fine. I’m getting better and Pearl will look after me.’
‘Oh, Kenneth,’ said Gwen. ‘She’s so young. Are you absolutely sure …’
‘Yes, Mum, we are. Don’t you think I haven’t already gone over an
d over all this? I did my best to put her off, but she is determined.’
Gwen could see Pearl coming through the doors with a tea tray. ‘Forgive me, son, but can you be a proper husband to her?’
Kenneth gave her a sheepish grin. ‘Don’t you worry on that score, Mum,’ he whispered. ‘We’ve already tried the equipment and it works just fine.’
Gwen felt her face colour but at the same time a sense of peace flooded her body. ‘I still have a dilemma,’ she said.
Kenneth frowned and then as Pearl poured the tea, she told them about Australia.
When Eva and Roger strolled into the Lyon’s Tea Room on South Street, everyone sitting at the table seemed a little awkward and embarrassed. Steven was busy ordering afternoon tea while Vi and Cissy Maxwell and Mr and Mrs Mitchell sat primly in their seats. As Eva approached, Steven rose to his feet and kissed her cheek. Roger gave him a firm handshake as the waitress, neatly dressed in her nippy uniform and cap, hurried away with their order.
Once all the formal introductions were complete, everybody relaxed a little and started off with small talk.
‘The traffic on the A24 was horrendous.’
‘The bus was late too.’
‘Looks like we’ll be having more rain.’
Steven winked at Eva across the table.
The waitress came back with a pot of tea and the cake stand. Vi Maxwell elected herself as ‘mother’ and poured the tea. The cake selection was wonderful. Butterfly cakes, Victoria sponge and some jam tarts.
‘I’m sure Eva is a lovely girl,’ Mr Mitchell began, ‘but Mother and I think this is all a bit quick.’
‘Eva and I have been seeing each other for over a year now, Dad,’ said Steven stoutly. ‘We just didn’t tell anyone, that’s all.’
‘Crafty devils,’ muttered Roger.
‘We hear that you’ve been married before,’ said Mrs Mitchell. Her tone was a tad accusatory.
‘Her husband was killed after only six weeks,’ said Cissy.
‘Oh,’ said Mrs Mitchell, the wind clearly taken from her sails. ‘How sad.’
