by Annie Groves
Maria looked so thin and haggard, and little Rosa, in a coat a size too big for her, held on to her hand.
All the Olive Oils turned up to give their support and sat at the back out of sight: Diana, Queenie, Su and Ana, watching the ceremony with tears in their eyes. It was Lily’s first visit to the ornate chapel, its walls lined with statues, alcoves with candles burning, the great crucifix hanging from the ceiling. How different from Zion and Freddie’s memorial service.
How different the Santinis and Winstanleys dealt with death, she mused. Here was passion and suffering, sacrifice painted on every wall, reminding everyone of their mortality. These age-old rituals were comforting in their familiarity but strange to her ears. Each to his own, she thought, praying that Maria would find consolation in the ceremony.
Lily called into Santini’s most days to see how she was coping but she was never alone in the kitchen or upstairs.
‘You’re worn out. Take a break. Marco wouldn’t want you to be so sad,’ Lily said the day after Marco’s funeral, offering her a brew of herbal concoctions to strengthen her blood.
Susan brought posies of flowers to cheer her table.
Ana looked her over with concern. ‘It is time you see a doctor. You can’t go on like this. You do your best. It was always going to end this way, surely?’ she added.
Now that Ana was training as a nurse she had strong opinions about everybody’s health. Out of her bag came her special icon of the Blessed Virgin to comfort Maria, and Lily noticed the soft walnut eyes of the Virgin filled with kindness. ‘Dina and me, we light a candle for his soul at our church.’
When Enzo and Nonna had gone, Maria broke down with relief. ‘It is me that should be dead. I killed him…I killed him!’ she sobbed, her head banging on the cushions of the sofa.
‘Stop this! It is grief talking.’ Lily hugged her. ‘You kept him alive much longer than his condition would predict. You were a good wife to him. You visited him. On Ana’s wards no one visits the old and sick. You did all what was expected.’
‘I betray him. I kill him.’ Maria continued crying. ‘I was too busy loving Sylvio…only you know we were more than friends. I betray Marco’s trust and the shock of it killed him. I am a bad woman. How can you say good things to me now?’
They sat on either side of her and held her. ‘We all knew about Sylvio. Anyone could see how it was for you…He brought a shining light into your eyes. You were discreet. These things happen,’ whispered Susan, taking hold of her hand. ‘And I should know.’
‘I am not a fit mother but I had sworn never to see him again. It was over and that is my punishment, and I have to live knowing Marco knew everything…I killed him. I broke his heart.’
‘You told him the truth?’ said Ana, her eyes wide, looking up at Lily with surprise.
‘No…I couldn’t bear to lose his trust but I find a letter, nasty letter by his bed when I was clearing his things.’ She pulled a crumpled note in an envelope from her handbag and shoved it in Lily’s hand. ‘Read it!’
Lily shared it with the others, each shaking her head in disbelief.
‘He gets that letter. The shock is too much for his heart.’ Maria bent her head. ‘Lily, it broke his will to live. Someone hate us so much they do this to a sick man.’
‘Who was it?’ Lily asked.
‘It can’t be family. What if they send them a letter too? There is no name, that is the coward’s way, but it is typed proper.’ She shoved the envelope into her hand.
‘How can anyone do this, Susan? I have to know?’
The two of them looked at the letter long and hard. It was stamped in Grimbleton on white notepaper, much crumpled with rereading, and fingermarked. They looked at each other but said nothing more.
‘Forget this filth and get on with your life. That will be your victory over this poisonous snake,’ Lily said. ‘But we’ll all help you find the snake, won’t we?’
‘No! You must tell no one,’ Maria pleaded. ‘Nobody knows about this, not even the priest. It is my burden, my punishment. I will seek revenge and you will help me?’
‘We’ll help you. What are friends for but to help each other through tears, bread and salt, sorrows and joy shared alike? I know what it is to be without hope,’ said Ana. ‘You came to our rescue and now we come to yours…if only you knew…’
Lily waited for the truth about the Winstanleys to come tumbling out but Ana stopped just in time.
‘You’ve had some beautiful cards. Let’s open these.’ Su pointed to a handful of unopened envelopes, shoving them into her hand to distract Maria.
‘This is from Queenie…Oh, no!’ Maria screamed pulling out a note.
Miss you at the salon. Sylvio walked out after the fashion show. He has gone AWOL. Look after yourself.
See you soon. Love, Queenie
As Maria read the note she fell on the carpet in a faint, lying flat out.
Ana kneeled over her. ‘Sip this,’ she whispered, feeling for her pulse. ‘You’re going to the doctor if I have to drag you there myself,’ she said.
‘Yes, Sister,’ Maria croaked ‘It’s too late for doctors now. I am in big trouble. I have to see Sylvio. There’s something he should know.’
What a sorry tale, Lily sighed. Just like Shakespeare, all ending in tears and tragedy. Timing was everything in life. Get it right and everything falls into place, but miss your cue and it’s curtains.
It still amazed her that Su and Ana turned up on the same flight, the chance in a million that was. What if only one of them had come? What would have happened then?
Then she recalled the big fight at Waverley House. Was it Ivy who said Maria’s romance would end in tears? Was it possible that…? Surely not? Had her own sister-in-law a hand in making sure that it did?
19
Changing the Guard
The racket coming from the kitchen would wake the dead, Esme thought as she hung over the banister rail in the hall, wondering what on earth was going on. This house was getting more like Bedlam and Paddy’s Market, with toys and clutter everywhere. Neville, Joy and Dina were squabbling over the Noah’s ark toys at the foot of the stairwell.
‘Mine!’ shouted Joy.
‘It’s mine!’ Neville yelled. ‘This is my house!’ whacking her on the head with a lead giraffe. Joy kicked him and he started to scream. It was time to step in before there was blood on the Axminster. Neville was yelling for his mum. All hell was breaking loose.
‘Get this clutter off these stairs before someone breaks their neck,’ Esme ordered.
Everyone could hear Ivy shrieking and Ana shouting back. They were having yet another barney.
‘There they go again, Lil. It’s like Mount Etna erupting, giving me a splitting headache. This can’t go on,’ Esme said, as they scurried in the direction of the fracas. A house full of temperamental women was getting on her nerves.
‘It was you! You sent letter. You killed Marco Santini!’ Ana was waving a kitchen knife in the air. ‘You are very wicked woman,’ she shouted, jabbing the knife in the direction of Ivy, who was trying to make Levi’s sandwiches.
‘I don’t know what this mad woman’s talking about,’ Ivy snapped, looking up as an audience gathered in the kitchen. ‘I don’t know what she is on about, do you, Mother? Foreigners, they’re all the same, making accusations. It was her as nearly got our Levi beaten to pulp,’ she retorted, stabbing a fork in Susan’s direction.
‘He get what is coming up,’ Ana shouted in her defence. It was funny how her much improved English fell to bits when she was angry.
‘Put that knife down, lass,’ Esme whispered to Ana. ‘There could be an accident.’
She was weary of all the bad feeling in the house lately. Susan and Ana wouldn’t speak to Levi and Ivy. Neville and the babies kept biting each other. She was fed up with the lot of them.
‘I just don’t know what’s got into you all. What sort of example is this to the kiddies? I’ve just about had enough of you lot going hammer
and tongs, and now the kiddies are copying too. I thought we’d got over all that silly business. Levi explained his mistake about the herbs. It was all a misunderstanding. Susan and Lil had no right to interfere,’ she added, trying to be fair.
She knew her son was lying, not believing one of his excuses, but he’d made a big mistake and she must give him a second chance. He was her son, after all, and they were all having to live with Freddie’s even bigger mistakes.
Levi was shaken by his beating, nervous she might chuck him out of the house or cut off his wages. He would shape up now she was keeping the books herself. It was partly her fault for being lax and letting her involvement slide. Her lazy son always did need a kick up the backside.
You don’t choose your offspring, she mused. You get what you’re given and make the best of them if you’ve any sense. He was family and that was what mattered. It was up to them to sort him out but if he slipped up again he was out on his ear, son or no. There was only so much she could take from him.
Susan was leaving the market stall to try for another teaching post and good old Enid was back full time, keeping an eye on Levi.
‘I can’t have you making accusations like that, Ana. Why should Ivy have anything to do with anything? It’s sad about Mr Santini but he’s been ill for years. Come on, spit it out, what’s brought this on?’
‘Maria’s husband get nasty letter and it broke his heart with shock. Maria is in terrible state. She is very sick. We think Ivy sent that letter,’ Ana accused. ‘She was angry about the hash. She said she would pay back Maria. Lily and Daw Winstanley, they hear your bad words. I think you write out of evil heart,’ she spat out her accusation at Ivy, and turned back to her chopping, banging on the table. There was no stopping that girl when she got an idea in her head. Poor Freddie never stood a chance once she got her claws in him.
‘How dare that woman talk to me like that? Why should I write to a Wop?’ Ivy replied, her lips tied in a string purse of righteous anger.
‘Because you are bad woman who want to spoil Maria’s happiness,’ Ana replied.
‘We don’t approve of adultery in this house. Any woman who goes with another man when her husband is sick deserves everything she gets. It’s all round the town that she’s no better than she should be, that so-called friend of yours!’ Ivy furiously packed the pile of sandwiches in a lunch box, slamming the lid.
‘Is this true, Ana?’ said Esme, sitting down at the table to face the both of them. Better to be informed of the true facts before she made a judgement.
‘What Maria does in her private life is none of our business. Maria’s a kind woman and good to all of us. We all make mistakes.’ Ana refused to look her in the face but her cheeks were flushed.
‘So what proof have you got to blame our Ivy for some poison-pen letter? It’s a serious charge, my lady,’ Esme countered with a calmness that belied her racing heart.
‘I no need proof. I know in here,’ Ana shouted, stabbing at her heart with the knife again, thankfully with the handle rather than the blade but still giving them all palpitations. ‘That woman hate us. Her never like Maria and wanted to get back at my friend.’
Esme paused, folding her arms. ‘I think you should apologise to Ivy right now and it’ll go no further. You just can’t go making stories out of thin air. Why should Ivy risk her good reputation to write such an evil thing?’
Ivy was sitting with Neville, looking like innocence personified, her head bowed like a suffering saint, but Esme was cautious. No one spoke. It was time to talk turkey and get the steam out of this nonsense.
‘I can’t have all this argy-bargy in my house. It’s getting me down, the atmosphere amongst you. It’s time you all sorted yourselves out and made your peace. If you can’t live together then you’ll have to find somewhere else to go. Heaven knows, I’ve done my duty by you all for long enough. I want no more sniping and backbiting. Is it too much to ask for a bit of peace and quiet at my age?’
She rose and left them to stew in their own juices. For months now she’d done her duty, kept a roof over everyone’s head and covered up the family shame, months of lies and half-truths. They all needed a good shaking. Why should she put up with this rumpus any more? Three generations in one house was never going to be easy, even in a big house like this, but all the bickering was getting beyond a joke.
Esme retreated into the front room by the marble mantelpiece, too tired to knit or read or do the mending, sunk back in a chair with shut eyes. She was at a difficult age for women, ‘on the change’. All these hot sweats and flushes were playing havoc with her sleep and her concentration, but this accusation buzzed in her head like a demented bee.
The trouble was there was no one here to share her worries with, no one who could see the funny side of things, no one to tease and make them all laugh, no one like Freddie or Redvers. It was hard putting on a brave face in public, and she had cried herself to sleep many a night thinking about them.
What troubled her most was the thought that Ivy could be capable of writing such a letter. There was something in her tight-lipped silence and pious gaze that made her shiver. Ivy was all for number one, and precious little Neville was turning into the same. He was being groomed to expect better things without the cash to back them up and it had put temptation into Levi’s path.
Ana was on the way to becoming a right starched apron. She’d an answer for everything these days. It was ‘Dr Jacob says this,’ and ‘Sister Diane says that.’ Esme’s lodgers were getting too big for their boots. Had they forgotten just how much they owed to this family?
Susan was quiet enough, but sharp, and she fussed and overfed little Joy until she was far too bonny for her own good. Their whole lives revolved around the blessed dancing class and supper club.
The novelty of having such exotic grandchildren was wearing off fast. Much as she’d grown to care for them, she was glad to see the back of them at the end of the day, but as they grew larger and noisier what would happen then?
Suddenly she wanted to just get shut of the lot of them. Waverley might as well be a boarding house-in and out on shifts, creaking stair rods and pulled lavatory chains, waking the household, trampled carpets and strangers in her kitchen.
I’ve done my duty, she thought, looking at the men in her life, at Redvers and little Travis on the piano, and Freddie’s military portrait with his cap at such a rakish angle, which only now could she bear to display. The family were well established now. She’d seen them all through difficult months, kept the show on the road. Now it was her turn to retire from the fray.
At least she was lucky enough to have funds to give her some choice. Redvers said it was good for a woman to have a bit of money stashed away, and she was well provided for. It was about time there were a few changes in this house, and soon, before she grew too old to enjoy herself.
With her eyes closed it was pleasant to imagine another way of life. Then she recalled there was Lil’s wedding to pay for, and her heart sank. That must be the first priority.
‘Are you all right, Mother?’ Lily asked, creeping into the room, searching for the Gazette. ‘I’ve cleared them all off the stairs. Can I show you something in the paper?’
‘Not now, love. I’m done in. I don’t know what Redvers would make of this lot,’ Esme sighed, fingering his photo. ‘I’ve tried to keep the show on the road, Lil. It’s about time there were a few changes in this house, and soon, before I get too old to make them.’
‘I’ll soon be out of your hair. That’ll be one less to worry about,’ she offered. Her wedding day was only eight weeks away now.
‘I’ve been thinking about that. You looked that swish in the ballgown. Do you want something from Levine’s? You can have all my coupons.’
‘It’s all in hand, Mother. Can you imagine one of those puffballs going down the aisle in Zion? I’d get stuck on the umbrella stands. No, thank you.’
What had changed Mother’s mind? It was not like her to fling out compliments
.
‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? I hear Mrs Platt is not well pleased with Walter giving up his housekeeping money to do up that place.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Lily murmured, picking up the Gazette and leaving the room.
It was Diana who had pointed out the advertisement in the Jobs section of the Gazette.
LONGSIGHT TRAVEL: require the services of a reliable shorthand typist with telephone skills to help administer busy office, friendly manner essential.
‘It’s a new business organising bus tours around Britain and they’re hoping to branch out into the Continent if they can get petrol concessions. It’s got your name written all over it.’ Diana had shoved the page in front of her.
Lily had gone into the Crumblehumes’ office to collect the raffle prize and liked the set-up. She had a new hairstyle, soon to have a new name, so why not a new job?
But I couldn’t leave the stall, could I, she wondered. Why not? Levi ignored her, Enid could do the job standing on her head and needed the extra pay, and now that Su was going, Lily wasn’t needed for guard duty.
If truth was told, her heart had not been in the stall for a long while. All those years seeing the business through the war and no thanks for it. Why shouldn’t she do something new, something for herself?
Now the war was over people wanted regular holidays. For two weeks every August Grimbleton ground to a halt when factories, mills and schools shut down for the wakes weeks to go to the seaside en masse. Austerity and rations, nothing would stop the annual holiday.
Only last week she had read something in the Manchester Guardian that suggested that soldiers who travelled across the world would someday want to take their families to see just where they had fought. People might want to go further afield than Blackpool or Morecambe. Honeymooners might choose hotter climes than Scarborough and Rhyl. The prospect of a new challenge at work was irresistible.
A letter replying to the advert was written without a second’s hesitation.
