by Tania Crosse
Bert’s going to buy us a proper engagement ring, he says. Imagine that, Annie! My mum never had no ring. Dad couldn’t afford it, but Bert’s been saving up. Seen a lovely one in the pawnshop window, I has. I hopes it’s still there when Bert comes back, coz I really likes it. Dad reckons Bert’ll get his job back on the railway, and then maybies us can get one of those mortgage things and start to buy our own place instead of renting. Fancy that, eh! But us’ll have to save a lot more for the deposit, so us’ll have to wait longer afore us can tie the knot. But it’ll just be great to have Bert back home.
‘What she say then, young Ethel?’ Queenie interrupted Anna’s reading of the letter that had arrived in the post that morning.
Anna gave a knowing chuckle. ‘Oh, she’s full of Bert coming home as you might imagine.’ She put down the sheet of paper and picked up the cloth to wipe Charlie’s hand. He was sitting in his high chair, again bought second hand and transported to Holly Cottage balanced on the pushchair. The toddler was learning to feed himself with a spoon and was ladling mixed-up Farex into his mouth with dubious success.
‘Lovely time o’ year for an ’omecoming, mind, the spring,’ Queenie nodded sagely. ‘So what else does she say?’
‘Oh.’ Anna took up the letter again and scanned Ethel’s scrawl. ‘She says she’ll drop me a line after Bert arrives and she knows what they’re doing. She’ll probably take some of her holiday, and either they’ll come up here or we can go down there for a party, maybe. You’d come, too, wouldn’t you, Queenie? Oh, Charlie! No!’
Anna sprang up, her arms thrust towards her son. But she was already too late. Charlie had lifted up his bowl and tipped its contents over his head, laughing uproariously as the gooey mixture oozed through his hair and began to dribble down his face.
‘Oh, Charlie, you mustn’t do that! You naughty boy!’ Anna chided, but Charlie was beaming gleefully at her, his little cheeks pink with delight. Anna whisked away the bowl before he could create even more chaos with it, and glanced round in desperation for the cloth. And then amongst all the pandemonium, a sudden urgent hammering broke out as if somebody was about to break down the front door.
‘’Oo can that be?’ Queenie pulled in her chin with an irritated frown. ‘I’ll go, maid.’
She covered the few steps to the front door while Anna attempted to clear up the mess. She didn’t really care who their visitor might be. She was cross with Charlie, but she supposed in his own mind, he was just playing. He was too young to understand an explanation, so she must be firm but not too angry in showing him her displeasure.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Queenie had come back into the room, her stance and the tilt of her head somehow indicating that something was amiss. Anna’s thoughts at once turned to Ethel and her heart leapt into her throat. Surely nothing had happened to Bert at the very end of his stint? But, lingering indecisively in the doorway, was neither Ethel nor the telegram boy, but a small, waiflike figure with wild blond curls looking windswept and out of place above an immaculate scarlet coat with a silver-fur collar.
‘Frankie! What on earth—?’
She got no further as Frankie’s face crumpled and she hurtled across the room and flung herself into Anna’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Anna was flabbergasted and tried to pat Frankie’s back without soiling the smart coat with Farex. She was quite at a loss, and then Charlie started to protest at this invasion of his morning routine and was instantly howling loudly. To Anna’s relief, Queenie came to the rescue, whisking the child out of his high chair and pacifying him on her lap.
Anna nodded her thanks and then turned her attention to Frankie. The other girl was crying wretchedly, clinging onto Anna as if her life depended on it. Over her head, Anna shrugged bewilderedly at Queenie’s raised, questioning eyebrows.
‘There, there,’ she soothed just as she did with Charlie whenever he fell over and hurt himself. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ she asked for the third time in an effort to get some sense out of her.
She soon had her answer. Frankie finally drew away and stared at her, sniffing, from her tear-stained face. A great, livid mark stood out on her cheek in a clear handprint, bright crimson but already with a bluish tinge in the centre. And beneath the bobbing curls on her forehead was the purplish-yellow fading blossom of an earlier bruise.
‘Oh, Anna, I’m sorry,’ the poor girl gulped, her eyes still swimming with moisture. ‘You were the only person I could turn to. I don’t know how much longer …’
She looked in danger of bursting into tears again, and Anna nodded towards the table. ‘You sit down there and have a cup of tea, and then you can tell me all about it.’
Frankie obeyed meekly, swallowing down her threatening tears. But she seemed a little calmer, and as Anna filled a mug from the pot and pushed it in her direction, she considered that introductions might help settle her friend down.
‘Frankie, this is Queenie.’
The two strangers acknowledged each other with a bob of the head, and Frankie’s inbred manners came to her aid. ‘Yes, I gathered you must be,’ she said, more steadily now. ‘I’m pleased to meet you.’
‘Likewise,’ Queenie answered reservedly, not quite sure how to take this young girl who had landed on her doorstep from a different planet, or so it seemed to Queenie, from her posh clothes and the cultured way she spoke. And yet the cheel was in such distress. She was almost glad when Charlie started grizzling again and she had to jiggle him up and down on her knee once more.
‘I know I said I’d never come here,’ Frankie croaked, her voice strained as she battled with the last remnants of her tears. ‘But I didn’t know what else to do. I just had to get away.’ For a moment, she seemed to be verging on the edge of hysteria again, but with a huge sigh, made an evident effort to retain a grip on herself. ‘I didn’t take the car, though, so no one should have any idea where I am. I just said I was going for a walk. It was all quite calm, really. It wasn’t until I got to the end of the drive that it all burst out of me. I just started walking towards Two Bridges and then I thought of you, and I just kept walking. I didn’t realise how far it is, though. I think I’ve got a blister.’
‘I’ll get you a plaster. An’ summat for … for …’ Queenie waved vaguely at Frankie’s face as she set Charlie down on the rag rug, where thankfully he began to play with his toys like his normal happy self.
‘Gilbert, I assume?’ Anna suggested quietly as Queenie rummaged in one of her cupboards.
‘Who else?’ Frankie answered, the sarcasm of her words not reflected in her flat, expressionless tone. ‘He’s still blaming me for not being pregnant after nearly two years of marriage. He seems obsessed by it, and sometimes I do feel guilty. Especially when he … gets into one of his moods about it.’
‘And hits you, you mean?’
Frankie glanced up darkly. ‘Yes. But at least he’s still gentle and loving when … when we’re in bed. He does still love me, I’m sure of that.’
‘Well, ’e do ’ave a funny way o’ showing it,’ Queenie put in.
‘Oh, no. You don’t understand. It’s just this overwhelming desire for a child that gets to him sometimes and makes him violent. And usually when he’s had too much to drink.’
‘But not at this hour of the morning, I take it?’ This said contemplating the fresh mark on Frankie’s cheek.
‘A hangover,’ Frankie replied wryly. ‘That’s why I was able to slip out.’
‘And Lady Ashcroft? Does she know?’
‘I’m sure she must do. But she turns a blind eye. And I’ve heard her having a go at Gilbert for not producing an heir. She seems driven by it, too. As if it’s, I don’t know, almost a sin that nothing’s happened yet.’
‘Huh! Queer folk, gentry, like,’ Queenie muttered as she handed Frankie a plaster and placed a bottle of witch hazel on the table.
‘So, what are you going to do about it?’
Anna’s voice was firm, for surely Frankie wasn’t going to sit back a
nd take it on the chin? But the girl turned to her, eyes wide with surprise.
‘Do? What can I do?’
Anna almost felt like shaking Frankie herself! But then … Frankie was different. Gentle. Stoical. Accepting. Even if it meant she suffered as a result.
‘You could stand up to them. Both of them. Tell Lady Ashcroft to mind her own flipping business. Well, not in so many words. But better still, tell her – really sort of confidentially – that you’re upset yourself that you’ve not had a baby yet. But make sure you start the conversation, as if you really want to talk about it. And as for Gilbert, tell him if he doesn’t stop knocking you about, you’ll leave him.’
Frankie gasped and stared at her, totally aghast. ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly do that! Think of the scandal! My father would turn in his grave!’
‘Well, forgive me, Frankie, but your father’s dead and you’re the one suffering the abuse. And while you’re at it, tell them both that you want to be seen by Lady Ashcroft’s own doctor. I’m sure she must have one. Or some specialist in Harley Street, isn’t it? It’ll really show her you’re worried about not having had a child, and it’ll stop Gilbert hurting you. He won’t want some eminent physician asking questions about how you get your bruises.’
Frankie seemed to consider for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose that’s a good idea. But Gilbert’s always so sorry afterwards. When he’s sobered up.’
‘Frankie, a decent man wouldn’t harm a woman no matter how drunk he is. In fact, a decent man wouldn’t get that drunk in the first place. I know you love Gilbert. As I did myself once. And you can go on loving him if you want to. But he’s weak, Frankie. And unless you want your life to be a complete wreck, you’ve got to do something about it!’
‘Oh, Anna, I wish I was as strong as you,’ Frankie breathed out on an enormous sigh. ‘I will think about it, though, I promise. But can we change the subject now?’ She suddenly sat up, her face brightening. ‘Could I play with Charlie, do you think?’
‘You’re welcome!’ Anna smiled back, deliberately putting Frankie’s problems to the back of her mind, for surely they had been sufficiently discussed. ‘He’s a mucky little toerag just now! But I’ll be bathing him shortly.’
‘Oh, can I help?’
‘Of course you can. If you don’t mind getting soaked. He splashes around like nobody’s business!’
She watched as Frankie took off her coat and, getting down on her knees on the rug, began building a tower with Charlie’s bricks which he then joyfully knocked down, laughing in his little gurgling way while the strange woman happily retrieved them for him and began again. Anna met Queenie’s gaze over their heads. They both of them doubted that Frankie would take the slightest notice of Anna’s impassioned advice.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Well, I never! I’s ’ad more post arrive yere since you’m been living wi’ me than in my entire life.’
‘Get away with you!’ Anna chortled back. ‘For me, is it, then?’
‘No, as it ’appens.’ Queenie wagged her head proudly. ‘For me. Looks official, like. Typed brown envelope. Probably from a solicitors telling me I’s been left a fortune by some long-lost cousin in America, or summat.’
‘Or that your pension’s going up by a bob a week or some other vast amount.’
‘Yes, more like,’ Queenie grimaced as she sat down at the table.
‘Nothing for me, then? Eth’s not written since we went to Bert’s homecoming party, and that was three months ago.’
‘That were a grand day!’
‘Certainly was. I’ve never seen Eth so happy. And she’ll be spending every spare minute with Bert, so I shouldn’t really expect a letter from her. No, it’s Frankie I’d like to hear from.’ Anna paused as she spread Marmite very thinly on a slice of toast and cut it into fingers for Charlie. ‘Not heard a dicky bird from her since she came here that day. I do hope she’s all right.’
‘So do I, cheel. A nicer maid you couldn’t meet. Just goes to show, mind,’ Queenie sighed ponderously. ‘All the money in the world cas’n bring you ’appiness.’
‘No. And you can’t live other people’s lives for them, either.’
‘Well, worrying about it won’t get us nowhere,’ Queenie stated decisively. ‘I’ll just read about my fortune,’ she winked, her pale eyes twinkling mischievously, ‘an’ then I’ll get some scones in the oven afore I opens up the tea room. Got to make a living some’ows!’
Anna carried the dirty plates over to the sink. It seemed perfectly normal to her now to have a sink with no taps. It was the same granite affair that had been put in when the cottage had been built over a hundred years previously. Anna placed the enamel washing-up bowl in it and then went to fetch some hot water in a jug from the range boiler.
‘Oh, my God.’
Queenie breathed in the words rather than speaking them, and Anna turned to grin over her shoulder and tease Queenie by suggesting that there really was a long-lost relative. But then she saw Queenie’s ashen face and realised it had been no exclamation of joy.
She dropped the dishcloth back into the water and crossed the room, drying her hands as she came. Queenie was staring down at the letter in her lap, the paper shaking so that it rustled ominously. Anna’s heart missed a beat, for surely something must be terribly wrong.
‘Whatever is it, Queenie?’ she dared to ask.
Queenie lifted her grey head. ‘Read it yersel’, cheel,’ she said, her voice hollow. But Anna had barely taken the sheet of paper when the elderly woman went on, suddenly fired with indignation, ‘Unin’abitable, my foot! What the ’eck does they think I been doing but living in the place these last sixty year or more, an’ my parents afore that? No sanitation, indeed! They needs to come an’ see it! Eat off my floor, you could, it’s so clean!’
‘Yes, I’m sure you could,’ Anna murmured. Her eyes were travelling cursorily over the letter, concentrating on taking in at a glance what it contained. But now it was her turn to be shocked and she rocked on her feet. ‘Oh, Queenie.’
‘’Ow dare they say it’s been condemned!’ came the heated reply. ‘Perfectly adequate, it is! We’m warm an’ cosy, bain’t us? An’ just cuz us ’as to fetch in the water, don’t mean to say—’
‘But it doesn’t meet current health regulations, it says,’ Anna broke in, shaking her head as the vile coldness of acceptance settled in her stomach. ‘And they are right,’ she said, talking even though she seemed to have no control over her speech. ‘We don’t have a flushing toilet, inside or out. There’s no foul-drainage system whatsoever, and our water does come from an outside tap.’
‘Well, they can change all that if they musts!’ Queenie crossed her arms beneath her bosom in the stubborn gesture Anna had seen before. ‘Queenie’s not moving from yere an’ that’s a fact. They can come in an’ modernise the place if they wants, but I’s not budging!’
Anna contemplated Queenie’s red, inflated face and her own heart plummeted to her feet. ‘It says here it’d be uneconomical to do that,’ she said lamely.
‘An’ what do that mean when it’s at ’ome?’
‘It means … it means it would cost too much. It means …’ She caught her breath, sucking in her lips before she ventured in a tiny voice, ‘We’re going to have to move out.’
‘Over my dead body—’
‘They’ve offered you a two-bed house in Princetown. With …’ She hesitated, dreading Queenie’s reaction. ‘With a little garden.’
‘An’ ’ow can I be doing with a little garden? ’Ow am I supposed to keep Dolly an’ Wilma in a little garden, an’ then there’s the’ens—’
‘You’ll have to … get rid of them, I suppose,’ Anna cringed. ‘But there’ll probably be enough room to grow some of your own veg.’
‘Get rid on them?’ Queenie was outraged, her cheeks puce with anger. ‘Oh, no, I won’t, cheel! They cas’n force me to move out—’
‘Unfortunately, I believe they can.’
‘An’ �
�ave you seen the rent they wants to charge me for that there nice little ’ouse? Ten times what I pays yere! I cas’n afford that, even if you ’elps out. An’ you’ve got Charlie to feed an’ clothe, an’ there’ll be bills for water an’ electric light an’ God knows what else. An’ wi’out the garden to grow teddies an’ the like, an’ the café to bring in that little extra—’
‘That’s another thing,’ Anna interrupted before her courage failed her. ‘They say you shouldn’t be running the tea room.’
‘What!’ Queenie fumed, and Anna could see the pulse beating furiously beneath the wrinkled skin at her throat. ‘Well! My mother ran it all through the Great War, an’ she sold cigarettes to the troops training yereabouts, an’ all. So ’ow come they suddenly objects to it? Well, I doesn’t care what they says. I’s staying put, an’ I’s opening up the café today, an’ all!’
Anna watched, reeling herself and totally at a loss, as Queenie hurled herself to her feet and stomped towards the range. Anna closed her eyes with a sigh, returning little Charlie’s grin with a rueful curve of her mouth. She was shaken to the core. Living at Holly Cottage had been her salvation, one of the happiest times of her life. She simply couldn’t imagine leaving it.
‘Oooo.’
Queenie gave a muted gasp and suddenly swayed precariously, her gnarled hands outstretched as if to catch her balance. Anna sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, grabbing hold of Queenie and staggering under her weight. Instinctively, she managed to reach out one hand, pull one of the kitchen chairs behind Queenie and help her lower herself onto it.
