by Annie Groves
Everyone had chipped in to make food for the guests. Crompton’s Biscuits even provided traditional spice biscuits. The Chapel Ladies’ Bright Hour were organising sandwiches, rolls and tray bakes for the usual suspects, who liked to have a nosy round and scoff anything going. Not that Lily begrudged giving hospitality, but she sensed most of them were here because of the new arrivals.
Ivy was showing off little Neville in his velvet trousers and knitted jumper. The other toddlers were whipped out of sight for their nap and Esme was giving orders from her seat in the parlour: ‘Concertina needs a nappy change…’ She had that pained look etched into her jaw when her corsets were digging in too tightly but her eyes were dull with grief and shock.
Ana whipped up the child with a scowl. ‘We say in Greece, husband’s mother is cross all wife must bear,’ Ana whispered to Susan. ‘My Dina is not called Concertina.’
Lily pretended she had not heard as Walt made a beeline for Susan.
‘Well, I never! This is the new Mrs Winstanley then? He beat us to the altar, Lil,’ he winked as Susan lifted her finger so everyone could see.
‘No, this is Cousin Cedric’s widow from London,’ Lily announced loudly.
‘I never knew you had a cousin,’ Walt continued. ‘So that one over there’s the bride,’ he said, pointing his sausage roll at Ana. ‘Blimey! I never thought Fred’d settle down with a copper knob, a ginger biscuit. Who’d a thowt it!’ He burst out laughing but Lily wasn’t amused. He plonked himself down in the softest chair by the fireside and got out his cigarettes. That would be him settled for the afternoon now.
Ivy was on the warpath, passing tongue sandwiches along a line of guests with that pained expression of hers, no doubt wishing she was a thousand miles away. Susan stood in the shadows looking awkward. This long-lost relative, dressed in her one decent silk blouse and thin skirt, was wearing Lily’s borrowed cardigan, which smelled of mothballs. Ivy edged herself round the sides of the room as no one was bothering to talk to her. Esme was receiving condolences from the neighbours. Better then to make those girls useful clearing up plates to take to Polly in the kitchen. They were banging down the cups and saucers onto trays until Esme caught their eye.
‘That’s my best china you’re cracking,’ she muttered, turning to Lily. ‘If you want any left over for your cabinet one day, I suggest you leave Polly to clear away. Take them upstairs, and what’s all this I hear about you and Walt naming the big day?’
‘That’s the first I’ve heard of it,’ she replied, puzzled. The two of them had scarcely passed two words on the subject for weeks. What was he playing at?
‘I’m glad to hear it. A funeral is enough for my nerves, and with that lot upstairs to sort out…Is it hot in here?’ Esme was fanning herself like fury. ‘There’s no brass to fork out on weddings yet. I’m not made of money, Lil. We need you here now.’
‘I know, I know. I expect he was just trying to cheer you up,’ she sighed. It was good that Walt was showing some initiative but he should have asked her first before blabbing about dates. Weddings were the last thing on her mind at the moment.
‘The thought of you hitched up with that lazy loon over there gives me no cause for celebration,’ Esme added.
‘Oh, give it a rest! It’s been a long day,’ Lily snapped back, making for the stairs.
‘Lily Winstanley, that’s no way to talk to your mother!’
‘Oh, shut up, all of you,’ Lily muttered under her breath. There was only so much of her family she could stomach in one day.
Esme was trying to pin a smile on her face and look in control, but Lily’s words were out of character. Giving cheek back like that! All this ‘Family First’ was exhausting, keeping up appearances and fending off awkward questions. Trust neighbours to smell something fishy going on, but she’d not give them the satisfaction. It was like being in the goal mouth, trying to parry off an attack. It needed everyone knowing their right position on the pitch, no gaps in the defence to let in a winning shot or an own goal.
She’d been touched to see so many of Freddie’s old pals. She’d welcome any one of them on board their team, but not Walter, all fingers and thumbs. Lily had scored an own goal in choosing him. Why didn’t she fancy one of the young Grasshoppers?
Esme kicked off her court shoes with relief and loosened her back suspenders. She’d put on a bit of weight since this outfit was made, a bit of middle-age spread, and it didn’t suit her. Then she saw Pete Walsh heading in her direction, wobbling his tea cup, the Royal Doulton bone china looking in peril on its saucer.
‘I’m glad I caught you, Mrs Winstanley,’ smiled the tall young man with hands like boxing gloves. ‘The lads and I want to thank you for the spread. You’ve done Freddie proud…’ He hesitated. ‘But I wonder if I could have a word as I’m a bit flummoxed.’
She ushered him into the bay window recess.
‘You know that Susan? Well, someone said she was his cousin’s wife from London, only when Freddie wrote to me from Burma, he did mention a Susan.’ He paused, searching her face. ‘It’s not her, is it?’
Straight in the net like a cannon ball: one nil! She glanced to see if there were any onlookers.
‘So you know about her then?’ she whispered.
‘He told me about her but not about the kiddy.’ Pete looked her straight in the eye.
‘What else did he tell you?’
He had the courtesy to blush, ‘Just lads’ talk and stuff…’
‘I can guess,’ she smiled. ‘You’ve put me in an awkward position, young man.’
‘My lips are sealed, Mrs Winstanley.’
‘Who else knows the score?’
‘Not a soul. I thought I’d better check it out first,’ he said, showing a set of impressive straight teeth.
‘I’d rather keep this in the family, Peter. Not a word to our Lil. She’s enough on her plate.’
‘Silent as the grave, I promise. Scout’s honour,’ he smiled, and he sidled away as Levi approached.
‘You two were in a holy huddle. What did he want? I hope you asked him for tickets for the Cup tie.’
‘Just giving his condolences. He’s a grand chap.’
‘The boys were saying how good the foreigners’ English was.’ He winked and tapped his nose. ‘Don’t look like that. I gave them the party line. I told them they’d both had good sleeping dictionaries.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean, son?’
Levi chuckled. ‘Well, let’s put it this way, Mam, the closer you get to someone the quicker you learn. There was this German girl I knew who was fluent in Cockney when she got a Tommy boyfriend.’
‘I don’t want to know about consorting with the enemy.’
‘What enemy?’ asked Lily, suddenly at her shoulder.
‘Never you mind. Just go and rattle some cups and show the guests the door. I’m whacked.’
‘We did Freddie proud today, all of us,’ said Lily.
‘I wish he’d done the same to us, and that’s the truth of it,’ Esme sighed, feeling old and worn out. What a web of lies we weave…Perhaps she should tell Lil that Pete Walsh was in the know, perhaps not. They would just have to play the game as it unfolded now.
Ana couldn’t wait for the last guest to leave. Susan went upstairs with the girls, who were covered in chocolate. Someone had brought them a treat. Lily’s man was sitting in a chair chain-smoking, being waited on hand and foot on account of his bad back. Women were made for men, her mother once said, but this one was a greedy pig. He ate a plateful of biscuits at one go. The room was a fug of cigarette smoke. Ana finished her duties and went upstairs with relief.
She found Susan undressing Dina, who was bouncing with delight naked, and making a joyful din. It was the last straw.
‘What you do with my baby?’ she snapped.
‘I’m getting them both ready for a bath. I will save you the trouble,’ Su replied, putting up her fingers to peg her nose in disgust.
‘She my baby…I do that,�
�� Ana insisted.
‘Yes, but she is dirty and her bottom is red, you see?’ Su answered.
‘You fuss. She can wait, I am tired,’ said Ana, furious. ‘Leave her alone!’
‘Sorry, Ana, I was trying to help you,’ Su said, putting down the child, but Dina held up her arms and reached out for her, making matters worse.
‘Don’t. I no need help from you. She can wait,’ she snapped, but Susan for once snapped back at her.
‘Everything waits for you…you are a lazy mother. You never wash under your arms, you smell and your baby smells. You stink this room out. I don’t like to live with your smells.’
Ana sniffed her armpits. There was a stain under her blouse but she smelled of milk and woman. What was wrong about that? The blouse needed a wash but so what?
‘I am clean. I washed yesterday. It is too cold to wash all over when the ice freezes the water. You fuss,’ she said, seeing with satisfaction the look on Su’s face. ‘You have plenty money for soap and new clothes.’
‘That is none of your business. I am a British citizen. I know how to do things proper,’ Su argued, brushing down her skirt and fiddling with her bracelet.
‘Look at you. You all gold bangles and earrings. I have nothing.’
‘That is not my fault. You make everyone sorry for you…poor Ma Ana…in a labour camp, a prisoner of war. How do we even know you speak the truth? You stole my Freddie. You told him lies too? I have had a bad time too. Why do you quarrel with me when I am trying to help you?’ she shouted back at her. ‘I have done nothing to you.’
‘He think you dead. I not steal him, he was ripe for picking,’ Ana argued, gathering the dirty clothes up in a huff of indignation. ‘All these silk curtains you are hanging up-you shove your silk skirts in my face every day. You think you are number one wife. I have nothing and now you take my baby as well,’ she sobbed.
‘I try to help you but you do not like anything I do. You are one sorry lady, always moaning like the wind through the trees. It is cold and dark. It is cruel weather. I cannot help the weather in England. If you want sun go back to Greece. If you stay then pull up your socks and get on with job,’ said Susan, folding her arms determinedly.
Lily was standing in the doorway listening, her eyes wide. ‘What is going on?’
‘What is all this pulling up of socks, Lily? I no wear socks. It is too cold. I have only one pair of stockings and if I pull them they tear. Then I have nothing on my legs. I have no clothing coupons,’ Ana sobbed.
Susan shook her head and smiled. ‘It is a typical English saying. It means you grit your teeth and smile when you are hurting inside. No one wants to see your hurts. The British want you to get on with “jolly good show,” go to work and keep the train on the track no matter what happens,’ she slowed her words so that Ana could understand. ‘Forget your troubles and try harder. Troubles pass like walking by fire, you have to walk through smoking darkness with a stiff upper lip and no tears, until you see blue sky again. “Keep Right On to the End of the Road”-we sang that song on the long march out of Burma.’
‘But there is no blue sky in Grimbleton. It is all fog and grey clouds, smoking gun chimneys and sulphur. Where has the sun gone, Lily?’ Ana wept, turning from Su in disgust. ‘I no speak to her any more. She is dead. Freddie say she is dead. She tell stories.’
‘So you think I am a liar, that Joy is not his girl? You tell her, Lily, you tell her she smell! I am used to sweat and heat and warm sun, the heavy warm rain of the Monsoon weather but this is where we are and we must be grateful, Ma Ana, grateful for a roof over our heads that does not leak, food at the table. Daw Esme does not turn us away. We must give respect to dragon mother. She is sad. She has lost a son and we have our beautiful daughters,’ Susan shouted. ‘In death we have life, that is what the vicar tell us.’
Ana stared down at the face of the tiny woman with delicate cheekbones and flashing eyes. ‘How you be so still like boat on a lake, no ripples?’ she asked. ‘You have no tears. You not honour the dead.’
‘Oh, yes, I do! I went on living when all around me were dying. Here is a better life for me. The Japanese bombed our beautiful cities. It was a terrible time. I trekked to India with my family through the jungle. I will not talk about the time of walking bones and skellingtons, when we ate roots and drank water from leaves. I saw terrible things too, many die. What do you know? Better forget what is past. We shall make the best of living here, I know.’ She paused and gave a big sigh. ‘When it is cold and dark I think of blossom on trees, orchids and perfume of jasmine flowers. I think of spices and making balachan pickle with my mother. Her spirit looks down on me with kindness. She expects me to behave like a good Anglo-Burmese so I will. I have Joy and she is my sunshine. I will make sure she walks in sunlight always. We have a friend in Lily, who looks after us all. Then it is not so bad.’
‘This is bad! I wanna go home but how can I go home with no husband and a girl child? I have no dowry. Who will wed me now? There is nothing but war amongst my country and ruined towns. There is nothing for me there but starvation.’
‘Then we make our own sunshine, Ma Ana,’ Su said, passing Dina back into her arms. ‘Come, the bath water will be cold and the snake woman will shout at us again.’
‘I don’t want bath. I want fresh tomatoes warmed by the midday sun, the golden oil of olives ripe in the heat of the afternoon. I want to sit with a glass of retsina, watching the oleanders swaying in the evening breeze. How can I have any of that here?’ she replied.
‘The Bible says, ask and you shall receive, seek and ye shall find…’ said Su.
‘You believe that if I pray to holy St Aristaeus my dream will come?’ Ana looked up in amazement. How could a Greek saint perform miracles so far away?
‘It is written in the Holy Word. Everything comes to him who waits,’ added Susan.
‘How long I wait?’
‘As long as it takes.’
‘You talk riddles to me,’ Ana snapped.
‘I am trying to help you lift up your socks,’ Su replied with flashing eyes. ‘There you go again, moan, moan. What shall we do with this miserable bag of bones with baggy bosoms?’
‘You are a selfish pig. You think you are better than me with your fat baby,’ Ana snapped back. ‘I not speak to you again, ever…’
‘My baby is beautiful. Tell her, Miss Lily.’ Su looked for support but Lily had beat a hasty retreat downstairs.
‘What on earth is that racket going on upstairs?’ said Esme as they tidied away the remnants of the funeral tea: soiled napkins and crumbs, a forgotten umbrella and gloves. ‘Go and see to it, Lil, I’m done in.’
‘I’ve been up once. Better to just let them sort it out like squabbling children,’ she replied, too weary to want more conflict.
‘And what would you know about that?’ Esme snapped.
‘A pack of noisy seven-year-old Brownies teaches you enough. If I chased after all their fallings-in and-out, we’d never get a badge done. Better to let them sort themselves out.’
‘But they’re mothers, not children…’
‘Then you go and sort them out,’ Lily replied. It was all so tiresome.
‘I don’t like your attitude these days. We never had this before—’
‘We never had to deal with Freddie’s girlfriends and babies either. Everything’s changing.’
‘They can’t stay here for ever. It’s like Manchester Piccadilly, all comings and goings, and you’ll want them on their way if there’s a wedding to plan.’
‘You won’t send them away, will you?’ The thought of her mother chucking them out was real now.
‘Oh, it can wait a while longer,’ Esme replied, not wanting another argument. ‘Family first and foremost, after all.’
‘Ana is crying ’cos she’s cold and the food is strange. She wants olive oil and a taste of home, just a bit of comfort.’
‘Well, she’ll have to want. This is Grimbleton. What’s the olive oil for? Is she sick?
’
‘They cook with it in Greece and in the Bible lands too.’
‘What’s wrong with lard?’
‘Don’t ask me. She’s homesick.’
‘Then she can go home on the next boat and solve one of our problems.’
‘But little Dina, your own granddaughter-why must she suffer?’
‘I can’t think about that now,’ came Esme’s reply. ‘My head is throbbing with all that talking. At least they’ve shut up now.’
‘I expect they’re not talking to each other. The silence is deafening.’
‘So what would a Brown Owl do about that?’
Lily smiled. ‘Sit them down side by side and see what it’s all about, I suppose.’
‘What’s stopping you? Go to it!’
‘Not tonight, Mother. I’ve had enough for one day. Walt and me have hardly passed the time of day. I miss Freddie too, but the man they talk about isn’t the brother I remember. How many more girls did he make promises to? How many more seeds did he scatter?’
‘Don’t talk ill of the dead, lass. They can’t answer back.’
‘I’m not so sure about that. I think our Freddie has left us quite a few messages one way and another…’
For two days Ana and Su stomped about in silent protest, speaking politely only when spoken to. For two days everyone tiptoed around them as they glared at each other, hissing like angry snakes. When Su went right, Ana went left, in and out of the house like weather girls in a cuckoo clock, coxing and boxing.
Then there was Ivy and Levi, dodging the flak, and Esme trying to ignore them. Lily was at her wits’ end. Should she intervene or stay silent, bang their heads together or go out and get on with her busy life and leave them to come to? Waverley House, big as it was, couldn’t contain all the warring factions, or keep the nosy neighbours from prying.
A house divided falls apart, Lily mused. It was time to stand in the firing line and say her piece, but why did it have to be her?
Don’t be a marshmallow, be a nut cracknel, she decided, gathering her courage. Let them all chew on that!
