by Tania Crosse
‘Anna!’ Frankie’s face wrinkled with anxiety as she came towards her. ‘You look rough. Has something happened?’
Anna felt her soul cave in and crumble. ‘Oh, Frankie, I’m so glad you managed to come. Yes, something awful has happened. Queenie’s dead.’ There, she had said it. Raw and blunt. But there it was.
Frankie’s face tightened into taut lines. ‘Oh, my God. I don’t believe it. When?’
‘Last week. The funeral was Tuesday. I feel … oh, I don’t know how I feel. And now I don’t know which way to turn.’ She stared up at Frankie, helplessly and yet expectant, as if she expected her friend to have an answer.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do? You helped me so much, and I hope I can help you back.’ She glanced at Charlie as she sat down, and smiled. ‘Hello, Charlie. How are you?’ She reached across to tickle his tummy, and he laughed gleefully, drawing up his chubby knees. It was a happy moment, and eased away any tension before Frankie’s expression became serious again. ‘Poor Queenie. What on earth happened?’
Anna lowered her eyes wistfully at the stab of pain. ‘It was a heart attack. So sudden.’
‘Oh, gosh, how dreadful!’
‘Yes, it was. In the middle of the night, too. It was just like a nightmare. I still can’t believe it. And to make matters worse, the cottage has been condemned and we’ve got to move out. Queenie was in such a state about it, I think that’s what brought it on. And now I don’t know where Charlie and I are going to live.’
It was just then that the waitress came over, interrupting their conversation to take their order, but as soon as she had done so, Frankie asked, ‘So, what’ve they said about the cottage?’
‘Hang on just a second. Charlie’s getting fidgety. I’ve brought his favourite picture book. That’ll keep him quiet.’ Anna reached into her bag and brought out the gaily coloured cardboard book which Charlie opened at once.
‘He’s going to be intelligent,’ Frankie observed with a smile.
‘Yes, he’s a bright little thing.’ Her voice trailed off again in a thread of sadness, and Frankie bit on her lip.
‘Tell me what they’ve said about the cottage,’ she prompted.
Anna’s lips twisted in bitter resignation. ‘It’s been condemned, not having mains anything. And they won’t pay out to modernise it, so we’ve got to move out. Only with the small allowance I get for Charlie and me, I can’t afford much.’
‘’Ilma!’ Charlie grinned, jabbing his finger at a picture of a goat in his book, and he swivelled his head to look up at Anna in expectation of praise.
‘Yes, it looks just like Wilma, doesn’t it?’ she answered absently, and then she added half under her breath, ‘I suppose I’ll have to get rid of the goats and the hens somewhere, as well.’
‘Well, I can’t help you with that, I’m afraid, but I do have money of my own, now,’ Frankie announced, her pointed chin jutting out firmly. ‘My father’s money is all being held in trust until I’m twenty-five, but I came of age since I saw you last, and now I get a very generous allowance from it. All my own. Nothing to do with Gilbert. So, I’ll send you a cheque every month.’
Anna’s jaw fell open. ‘Frankie, you can’t—’
‘It’s for Charlie, not you. Can’t have him being brought up somewhere awful. Would there be anywhere up on the moor, do you think?’
‘I can’t find anywhere suitable,’ Anna told her, trying to ignore the matter of Frankie’s astounding offer. ‘I did enquire about the place Queenie had been offered in Princetown, but as soon as they’d heard she’d died, they let it to someone else. Not that I could’ve afforded it.’
‘Well, you could’ve done now. Here’s twenty pounds. You may have to pay a month’s rent in advance. Go on, take it, I insist.’
‘It certainly would help.’ Anna chewed on her lip as she fingered the two crisp notes. ‘On one condition. That I pay you back one day. When Charlie starts school, I’ll get a job.’
‘If it’ll make you feel better! Now, if I’m not mistaken, that’s our lunch arriving.’
For the first time since Queenie’s death, Anna felt hunger pangs gnawing at her stomach. With a good night’s sleep under her belt at last, a full meal inside her and Frankie’s moral and financial support, she suddenly felt able to cope. Queenie had been dead little over a week and the raw pain still ate into Anna’s heart, but she was starting to feel positive about the future.
After lunch, Anna made her way to the letting agency in Duke Street that the waitress had directed her to. She told the man at the desk what she was able to afford, upping it a little now that she had swallowed her pride and accepted Frankie’s generous offer. The fellow balanced his hornrimmed spectacles on the end of his bulbous nose and looked down at her disdainfully.
‘There’s not many places will take a young child with a … hurrump … mother on her own,’ he said, clearing his throat.
‘I’m a widow.’ Anna lifted her chin, meeting his gaze steadily. ‘And I believe the rent I can afford is quite adequate.’
He pushed his ugly lips forward. ‘Hmm, well, let me see.’
In the end, he showed her three possibilities. One was a flat above a shop in Brook Street that Duke Street ran into. But although a good size, it could be noisy and there was no garden. A large room with a private bathroom in an even larger, detached house in Courtenay Road – with use of the garden if the child can behave itself – was also up for rent. But Anna wasn’t sure she could live with the landlady! The only place that tempted her was a two-bedroom terraced cottage near the top of Bannawell Street, with its own little back garden that caught the afternoon sun. But it really would be pushing her finances, even with Frankie’s help, and so she went away to think about it.
She was feeling exhausted again, her head reeling. It really was quite a task trying to find somewhere decent to live! Fortunately, Charlie had been as good as gold, and then he had nodded off in the pushchair as she walked back down the steep hill into the town centre. Perhaps she should look in the local paper, but she mustn’t leave the decision about Bannawell Street too long or it might be snapped up by someone else.
Her brain was whirling with conflicting thoughts. It was quite a responsibility, and one, if she considered it, she hadn’t been faced with before. She needed time to think. And someone to talk it through with. Not Frankie, because she wasn’t sure when they would meet again. She couldn’t speak to Ethel as the Shallafords didn’t have a phone, and Ethel didn’t know Tavistock anyway. Carrie did, but …
Perhaps Carrie was back now from staying with her parents or wherever else she had been. It was worth a try. It wouldn’t be much out of her way to cut through Bank Square and across to Carrie and Jeffery’s house in Exeter Street.
The road was dusty, the air tainted with the smell of tarmac that had been baked in the sun for days on end. It was not unpleasant, and Anna pondered that, unusually, they hadn’t had rain since before Queenie had died. Had the good weather helped, or had it seemed incongruous that the world was bathed in sunshine when Anna’s soul was dark with grief? She wasn’t sure, but then she didn’t feel sure of anything anymore.
As she approached Carrie and Jeffery’s house, she noticed a car parked by the kerb, and a middle-aged couple were unloading some shopping and other items from its boot. Anna didn’t pay much attention until, as she drew nearer, she realised that the front gate to Carrie’s house was open and the man seemed to be aiming for it. Then the woman, who had been leaning towards the back seat of the car, emerged with a little girl in her arms. At the same moment, Carrie appeared at the open front door, looking pale and drawn and so unlike her usual, merry self that Anna stopped in her tracks. Carrie came down the short garden path, and when she glanced along the road and saw Anna, her eyes widened with surprise.
‘Anna!’ She rushed through the open gate and out onto the pavement. ‘Oh, am I glad to see you!’ And then she burst into tears and flung herself into Anna’s arms.
&n
bsp; Anna was astonished and awkwardly patted her friend’s back. ‘What on earth’s going on?’
‘It’s … it’s Jeffery,’ Carrie gulped between sobs, and pulling back, she tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. ‘Oh, Anna, I’m sorry.’
‘Jeffery? What—?’
‘He’s in hospital.’
Anna’s confused frown deepened. ‘Oh, Lord, what’s happened?’
‘Oh, Anna, he’s … he’s got TB.’
Anna gasped, and something like ice trickled through her, despite the afternoon heat. Dear Lord, hadn’t she had enough shocks lately? ‘TB?’ she muttered. ‘Oh, good God.’
‘Yes, he—’
‘Hello, dear. Are you Anna?’ the woman with little Polly half asleep in her arms came up behind Carrie smiling, but with a tired look in her eyes. ‘I’m Carrie’s mum. Sorry I can’t shake hands.’
‘Oh, yes, hello, Mrs … er …’
‘Call me Rene, and this is Roger,’ she nodded over her shoulder. ‘The two Rs.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Anna repeated, still bewildered.
‘I think we’d all better go inside and we can explain everything.’
‘Yes,’ Anna said yet again.
They all trooped indoors and Anna negotiated the pushchair over the threshold. She left Charlie asleep in the cool hallway while Rene herded her and Carrie out into the garden.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she smiled kindly. ‘Roger’ll keep an eye on the little ones.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
The girls sat down in two deckchairs that were already out in the shade of the only tree in the garden. Anna noticed even more how awful Carrie looked, her eyes shadowed in a grey face. They must make a right pair, Anna thought glumly, as she’d glanced her own reflection in the mirror that morning and saw how drained she looked herself.
‘So, tell me all about it,’ she prompted, though she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know what Carrie was going through. ‘TB? I can’t believe it. Not Jeffery. He’s always so fit.’
‘I know. I can’t believe it, either.’ Carrie shook her head, looking close to tears again. ‘He’d not felt well and had this persistent cough for weeks. And then he started coughing up blood, so he went to see Dr Franfield. He ordered an X-ray and some tests, and there it was. He got Jeffery into the sanatorium straight away. And then among all the chaos, your telegram arrived. I’m so sorry about Queenie, really I am. But I just haven’t had a minute to contact you.’
‘I don’t suppose you have. I thought it was strange I didn’t hear from you. I thought you must be on holiday. Oh, golly, what a time we’ve both had. But, I hardly dare ask it, how is Jeffery?’
Her heart strained as she saw the desperation on Carrie’s face. ‘Well, he’s in the main building at the sanatorium which is where new patients start. Has his own room with huge doors opening to the outside, so it’s like being outdoors all the time. They say he’ll recover, but it’ll take time. Oh, but, Anna,’ she squealed as her eyes filled with tears again, ‘what if they’re wrong? What if —?’
‘You mustn’t think like that,’ Anna heard herself say. God, that sounded such a cliché.
‘If only he’d been immunised,’ Carrie despaired, and Anna noticed her wringing her hands. ‘You know we had it when we were at school? But Jeffery’d already left school when they started doing it. And then there’s Polly. Dr Franfield gave her a little test injection like we had at school. He’ll test her again in six weeks, and if it’s still negative, he’ll vaccinate her to be on the safe side. And then he’ll have to test her again six weeks after that because it doesn’t always take in young children.’
‘Oh dear, it all sounds pretty complicated. But how on earth did Jeffery catch it? You think of TB and overcrowded slums in industrial cities, not living here and with a decent standard of living.’
‘That’s what I thought, but you can pick it up anywhere. Jeffery did a wiring job a while ago and the old man was coughing all over the place, so perhaps it was that.’
‘But I’m sure Jeffery’ll be all right,’ Anna said confidently. ‘Dr Franfield is so good.’
‘Yes, I know. He was absolutely wonderful. You know, it was the same day Queenie died.’
‘Ah, that must be why Dr Franfield didn’t come back in the evening when he said he would. Not that there was anything for him to do. It was just him being kind. I’m surprised Deborah – that’s his wife – didn’t tell me about Jeffery. She knows we’re friends, and she came up to the funeral.’
‘Not allowed to, I don’t think,’ Rene said as she came out carrying a tray. ‘Patient confidentiality, I think it’s called. Now, I thought you might actually prefer cold drinks rather than tea. Lemon squash with ice out of the fridge, but I can brew up some tea if you prefer.’
‘Squash’ll be fine for me, thank you,’ Anna answered gratefully. ‘I’m so hot traipsing around the town and an ice-cold drink’ll be just the ticket. So where’s the sanatorium, then?’
‘Didworthy. It’s a mile or so outside South Brent going up onto the moor.’
‘Golly, that’s a long way, and an awkward journey. How are you getting there to visit?’
‘Dad’s been driving me.’
‘Oh, of course. How silly of me.’
‘Well, we came as soon as we heard,’ Rene said, declining Anna’s offer to have her deckchair and sitting down on the dry grass instead. ‘I’d just got in from work – I’ve got a little job in a dress shop, just part-time in the afternoons – when the phone rang. I was so shocked, as you might imagine. Roger was still at the bank, so I rang him there. He couldn’t just drop everything and leave, especially if he was going to be away for some time. So he had to stay late to organise things. I packed a case while I was waiting, and we left as soon as Roger got home. Got here about two in the morning, I think.’
‘Of course, your dad’s a bank manager, isn’t he, Carrie?’
‘Yes, he is. But Mum and Dad simply have to go back this weekend.’
‘How are you going to manage, then?’ Anna asked, and her own problems seemed pretty minimal by comparison!
Carrie shook her head. ‘I’ll have to get there by public transport, I suppose. Train to Plymouth and then another train to South Brent. Or apparently there’s a bus from Tavistock to South Brent twice a week. But you have to walk a mile from there up a winding country lane. The most awkward thing is that children aren’t allowed.’
‘Oh dear, it’s not going to be easy for you.’
Carrie took a huge breath and released it through pursed lips. ‘No. But Jack, bless him,’ she went on, brightening somewhat, ‘you know, my brother Jack I’ve mentioned before, he’s giving up his job up north to come and be with me. But this time of year, he’s really needed, so he’s got to work out his month’s notice, but then he’s coming to live with me.’
‘How wonderful to have a brother like that!’ Anna agreed, deeply impressed. ‘He’s a gardener, isn’t he?’
‘That’s right,’ Rene confirmed, and Anna was aware of her proud nod. ‘Really made something of himself despite … And I really admire him for taking this big step to help his little sister,’ she smiled, nodding affectionately at Carrie. ‘I didn’t want to leave my employer in the lurch. She’s nearly eighty, you see. I would’ve done, mind, but when Jack said it was time he made a change in his life, well, it seemed ideal. And it’s always nice to have a man around the place.’
‘He can’t come until the beginning of September, though,’ Carrie grimaced, ‘so I’ll be on my own until then. But, I think that’s enough of my problems. It really is so good to see you, Anna. Just chatting with someone else helps. But what were you doing in Tavistock?’
Listening to Carrie’s dreadful news, Anna had almost forgotten. ‘Oh, we’ve got to leave the cottage so I’ve been looking for somewhere for Charlie and me to live,’ she replied, trying not to appear too gloomy.
‘And have you found anywhere?’
‘No
, not really. Only one place, but it’s a bit expensive. I need to think about it. I’ll get the paper tomorrow and see if there’s anything in that. We’ve got a few weeks yet.’
‘It must be really strange without Queenie. You must feel so lonely up there without her.’
‘Yes, I do rather.’
They fell into silence for a few minutes as they sipped at their cool, refreshing drinks, each one locked in her own private thoughts. And when Rene suddenly spoke with startling enthusiasm, Anna jumped and spilt some squash down her front.
‘Oh, we are stupid!’ Rene cried. ‘The answer’s staring us in the face. Anna, why don’t you and Charlie come to live here with Carrie? At least until Jack comes, anyway.’
‘Oh,’ the two girls chorused, and then Carrie went on, quite elated, ‘Oh, Mum, you’re a genius! Anna, you will, won’t you?’
Anna stared at the happy relief on Carrie’s drawn face. She took a second or two to take it in, and then grinned back.
‘Yes, I’d be delighted!’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Roger dropped Anna and Charlie home in his car. Beside them on the back seat were a few empty cardboard boxes Carrie had found around the house. For that night, Anna was to start packing.
She had no idea what to do about the few pieces of furniture. Were they Queenie’s, or had they come with the cottage? She would simply leave them behind, and take only what she wanted of the more personal items around the place. Now, Roger waited while she filled Queenie’s two shopping bags with as many jars of home-made pickles and preserves as she could, as she was sure Carrie could make use of them.
She certainly didn’t have long to get organised. Roger was to collect as much as he could the following morning before driving Carrie to the sanatorium in the afternoon. That only left the evening, as Rene and Roger were leaving for home on the Saturday morning.
