by Tania Crosse
Once Charlie was settled in his cot for the night, Anna set to. She found some old wooden orange boxes in the outhouse and packed Queenie’s best china and glasses that had mainly been used in the tea room. She wouldn’t need them at Carrie’s, but she would once she had a place of her own. Another box took pots, pans and other kitchen equipment, all of which could be stored in Carrie’s loft. There was little ornamentation in the cottage, so that just left her own and Charlie’s personal possessions.
Anna hesitated with her hand on the latch to Queenie’s room. It would feel criminal rifling through the dear woman’s things, but it had to be done. Anna took a deep breath and walked in. At least she would be doing it with the greatest reverence and respect.
She checked the pockets of Queenie’s few clothes, but found nothing of any importance, just a half-crown piece. There was nothing she wanted herself, just a few pieces of cheap costume jewellery. Anna already had the best, Queenie’s mother’s wedding ring, on her own finger.
A shoebox of papers. Something to do with Queenie’s pension. Oh, yes. Anna would have to sort that out. A few age-stained letters dating back years. Nothing that made any sense. Only one had a legible address and appeared to be from one of Queenie’s brothers who had gone to Canada. Anna would write just in case, even though the letter was over twenty years old.
The bottom of the box was lined with a piece of tissue. Anna was about to replace all the irrelevant papers when she noticed there was something beneath the thin, faded pink sheet. Drawn by curiosity, she lifted out a small, yellowing envelope. Her heart jolted, for written on it in faded ink were the words ‘my darling little Charlotte’s hair’, and when Anna opened it, she found a tiny brown curl.
Oh, Queenie.
The wave of tears broke over her in a drowning crest. Queenie, who had made that supreme sacrifice that had dogged her all her days. Queenie, who had become to Anna like the dear mother she had so tragically lost. And now Queenie herself was gone.
I’ll never let Charlie go, Queenie, I promise.
Anna shook her head, setting her jaw fiercely. This really wouldn’t do.
The next morning, she rang Mrs Smudge early, before she would be leaving for Ashcroft Hall, since her only day off was Sunday. Please would she take two goats and some hens off Anna’s hands? Yes, she would. Her Alfie would come and collect them that evening. And she also agreed to pass on Anna’s new address to Frankie as soon as she got the opportunity.
And so, on Saturday morning, the cottage seemed empty. Before leaving for the long journey home, Roger kindly drove up, helped Anna dismantle the cot and took it, the high chair and a bundle of bedlinen and towels back to Carrie’s house for her. There was no room for Anna and Charlie in the car, so they would follow on later by bus.
Anna knew she was putting off the moment of final departure. She kept finding things to do, like cleaning the empty cupboards, although heaven knew why. But Charlie was getting restless with just his train to play with since all his other toys were waiting for him down at Carrie’s. So Anna took his hand and walked round to the back of the cottage to the empty goat shed and chicken run. She just had to say a last goodbye to every part of the place that had become the cornerstone of her life.
Anna crouched down in front of Charlie. Perhaps she shouldn’t have brought him out here, but hopefully with Polly to play with all the time, he would soon forget all about the goats.
‘Dolly and Wilma have gone to live on a proper farm,’ she told him, not sure that he would fully understand but she felt she should tell him anyway. ‘They’ll be much happier there. And we’re going to live with Polly.’
‘Polly?’ Charlie’s doubtful expression brightened considerably.
‘Yes. Come along now. We’ve got a bus to catch.’
As they crossed the yard, she noticed the door to the outhouse was slightly ajar. Through the gap, she glimpsed Queenie’s old mangle. Now that Charlie was partially potty-trained, there weren’t so many nappies, but at least now she could wash them in Carrie’s machine! The thought cheered her and they hurried back inside the cottage to collect the pushchair and the bag with the very last of their possessions safely stowed in it.
‘Mustn’t forget your train, Charlie!’ she grinned.
One last quick check that she wasn’t leaving anything behind. Then she steeled herself to pop Charlie in the pushchair and, with one final glance around the kitchen, she pulled the door to behind her, closing another chapter of her life.
‘Goodbye, Queenie,’ she murmured under her breath. ‘Thank you for everything. And God bless.’
She turned away. Come on. Carrie needs you.
‘Bye-bye, Anna dear!’ she heard Olive’s voice from the front door of the lodge. ‘Keep in touch, won’t you?’
‘Of course, Olive!’ Anna called back. ‘And thank you for your help.’
‘Not at all. You take care of Charlie, now. And good luck!’
They waved at each other, and then Olive went back inside and Anna walked the short distance along the road to the bus stop.
Anna was feeling pretty pleased with herself. She and Charlie had been living with Carrie and Polly for scarcely a week, but though her heart dragged whenever she thought of Queenie and Holly Cottage, things were looking up. That morning, she had secured a job at the Bedford Hotel down in the town centre, and would be starting the following Monday. She would start at seven o’clock every morning to help serve the breakfasts, and would finish at midday after morning coffees had been cleared away. Carrie would look after both the toddlers, and then in the afternoons, they would swap over so that Carrie could go to visit Jeffery.
The long spell of fine weather had broken in a thunderstorm, but after a few days of welcome rain, the summer sunshine had returned. Anna had taken the children down to play in the pleasant park known as The Meadows. They had fed the ducks along the disused Tavistock Canal, one of Charlie and Polly’s favourite activities and Anna had to drag them away. It would be slow going back up to Exeter Street. The children had to take turns in the pushchair while the other literally toddled along at a snail’s pace.
Once they reached home, the children went out into the garden where they sat on a rug spread on the lawn, playing with some gaily coloured wooden bricks. Anna knew they would be quite safe and went into Carrie’s kitchen to get some drinks. She was getting used to all the modern appliances and had to admit it was a lot quicker and easier to turn on the electric kettle than to wait for water to boil on the range. It was nice, too, to have light at the flick of a switch again, and to watch television of an evening!
She was back out in the garden, sipping her own glass of cold lemonade while the children played at her feet, when she thought she heard a noise at the front door. That was odd. Carrie wasn’t due back for hours. Apprehension gripped at her stomach. Surely they weren’t being burgled? She got up quietly, her heart pounding, and tiptoed in through the kitchen. Yes, there was definitely someone in the hallway.
Oh, crikey.
She was shaking with fear, but also with outrage. How dare anyone break into her friend’s house, her friend who already had enough troubles? And, oh dear God, the children! She would defend them to her last breath!
Anna picked up Carrie’s heavy frying pan which seemed to be the only weapon to hand, and stole to the door. She opened it a crack and her heart took a huge leap in her breast. A man was in the hall, bending down over something, but Anna was too incensed and terrified to care what.
She catapulted forward and went to thwack the frying pan with all her might over the intruder’s head. But at the last instant, he looked up, his eyes wide with horror, and dodged away so that Anna’s blow missed his head and landed instead with a resounding wallop on his shoulder. The fellow let out a yelp of pain and fell back against the door, putting up his hands to defend himself from further attack.
Anna stood over him, wielding the frying pan and ready to hit him again if need be. She wasn’t sure what to do next and was u
tterly petrified, but she mustn’t let him see.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded, praying her voice wasn’t trembling as much as the rest of her was!
‘I might ask you the same question! What are you doing in my sister’s house?’
‘What?’ Anna blinked at him, and wanted to die from guilt as realisation dawned. ‘You’re … you’re not—?’
‘Carrie’s brother, Jack,’ he confirmed, wincing painfully as he rubbed his shoulder.
‘B-but you’re not due here for another couple of weeks,’ Anna stammered defensively.
‘Well, as it happens, Miss Whoever You Are, they found someone to replace me who could start straight away, so I didn’t have to work all of my notice, after all. Thought I’d get a warmer welcome than this, mind.’
‘But … how did you get in?’ Anna wanted to know, still reluctant to believe him – or to admit to her mistake.
‘With a key, of course. Carrie gave me one when I came to stay ages ago. So would you mind putting that frying pan down and letting me get up?’
Oh. Oh, Lord. What a dreadful thing to have done. Anna stood back and watched as Jack got up, sucking breath through his teeth as he put his opposite hand up to his injured shoulder. As he did so, Anna noticed the striking resemblance to Carrie, the same strong jawline and generous mouth. His eyes, though, were a startling blue just like his father’s.
‘Oh, I am so sorry,’ she apologised, squirming with shame. ‘I honestly thought you were a burglar.’
‘Well, I’m glad you were prepared to defend yourself, whoever you are.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Again,’ she said awkwardly, although the tentative half smile that was creeping onto Jack’s face was making her feel more at ease. ‘I should have introduced myself. I’m Anna, Carrie’s friend. I’m living here for the time being. Carrie wrote you a letter—’
‘Yes, it came yesterday, but I didn’t have time—’
He broke off sharply, but then gave a casual shrug that made him wince again, and Anna bit guiltily on her lower lip. ‘Let me get you a drink. You must be gasping after that long drive.’
‘I came by train. I do drive, but I’ve never needed a car of my own. Erm, where shall I put my things?’ he asked, indicating the large rucksack and a holdall on the floor. Anna realised shamefaced that it was his luggage he had been bending over and not some article he was intent on stealing!
‘Oh, I don’t really know.’ Anna experienced a stab of shock as it dawned on her that Jack’s unexpected arrival had set the cat among the pigeons in other ways, too. She had taken over the spare double bedroom that Rene and Roger had vacated. She had Charlie sleeping with her in his cot, but Polly had the third room to herself. Anna had fully intended to find a place of her own before Jack came, dropping Charlie off at Carrie’s before work each morning, but now what was to happen?
‘I’d leave them there for now. Go through to the garden while I get you a drink. On second thoughts, I’d better come with you first. The children might be frightened if a strange man suddenly walks in.’
‘I’m not that strange, am I?’ Jack questioned with a lift of his eyebrows, and Anna’s mouth curved as she realised he was teasing.
‘You know what I mean. So come on through. This is Polly,’ she announced as they went into the garden. ‘Polly, dear, this is your Uncle Jack.’
The little girl looked up and promptly plugged her thumb into her mouth.
‘Golly, she’s grown. But I haven’t seen her since she was a few weeks old.’
‘And this is my little boy, Charlie.’
Jack turned to the other child, solemnly holding out his hand. ‘Hello, I’m Jack.’
Charlie gazed back, his mouth bunched in a thoughtful pout while his eyes travelled critically over the newcomer bending patiently over him. At last, he put his little hand in Jack’s as it seemed it was what was required of him, and his mummy was standing there, smiling, so it must be all right.
‘Don’t let me stop your game,’ Jack went on, releasing Charlie’s hand which the little boy snatched behind his back for a moment, then, deciding Jack was no threat, went back to playing.
As Jack straightened up, it clearly caught his shoulder again. ‘You’ve got a right strong arm on you there,’ he murmured. ‘No bad thing, but I wish I hadn’t been on the other end of it.’
‘Oh dear, I can’t apologise enough. I think Carrie’s got some witch hazel in the medicine cabinet. I’ll get you that drink and then I’ll go and look. Would you like some lemonade?’
‘I could murder a cup of tea, actually, if it isn’t too much trouble. Milk, no sugar, please.’
‘OK. Won’t be a jiffy.’
She sprang inside, glad to escape Jack’s arresting, deep-blue eyes – and her own guilt. Would she ever live it down? She left the tea to draw while she went upstairs to fetch the witch hazel and some cotton wool.
‘There. I found the witch hazel,’ she announced, taking everything outside.
‘Oh, good.’
Jack had arrived wearing a faded blue shirt, open at the neck and with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He must have begun the day with a knitted jumper over the top, and this had been tied about his thin waist by the sleeves when he arrived and had now been discarded over the back of the deckchair he was lounging in. Now, without further ado, he proceeded to unbutton his shirt and pull it down over his shoulder.
Anna was glad she had already put the tray down or she might have dropped it. Jack appeared not the least embarrassed, but she was! The last time she had seen a man’s bare torso had been – well, not even then, as Gilbert had had his wicked way without either of them removing any clothing other than the necessary. No, the only time Anna had seen half-dressed males had been at the Tinside Lido in Plymouth, or at Tavistock’s open-air pool at the top of Bannawell Street when she and Carrie had taken the toddlers there for their first experience of swimming earlier that summer.
Anna gulped, but as she tried to conceal her embarrassment, was aware of a pleasant tingle of excitement curling within her. She had sworn she would never be drawn to another man, not after the way Gilbert had deceived her. And yet Dr Edwin Franfield, William and Deborah’s son, had struck a chord in her heart just for one fleeting second. She had learnt that he was engaged – and now, of course, had been married just the previous weekend – and she had never thought any more about the question of the opposite sex ever entering her life again.
Now, though, inexplicably, her heart flipped over in her chest. Jack was of average height and, despite his almost overlean build, was broad of shoulder. Surprisingly, he wasn’t at all bony, but his upper arms and shoulders – as much as she could see of them as he hadn’t removed his shirt completely – were finely muscled. From his strenuous work as a gardener, she assumed. There was a tan mark around the back of his neck, below his slightly overlong hair, ending in a deep V on his chest which was covered in a scattering of fine hair.
She was jolted out of her astonishment at her own feelings by Jack leaning forward for the cotton wool and bottle of witch hazel.
‘You’d better let me do that,’ she said, amazing herself again. ‘I’m so sorry, Jack, but I split the skin, right on your shoulder blade. You won’t be able to see, and if you get witch hazel in it, it’ll sting like crazy. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if it doesn’t need a stitch or two. Perhaps you’d better pop down to William’s surgery. It’ll be opening soon. That’s Dr Franfield. We’ve seen so much of him lately, what with Jeffery and everything,’ – meaning Queenie, but she would maybe tell him about that later – ‘that we’re on Christian name terms now.’
‘That’s the most important thing. Jeffery, I mean. How is the poor devil?’
‘Holding his own, thank God,’ Anna replied, relieved to have something else to talk about as she dabbed the witch hazel over Jack’s reddening skin. ‘They say he’ll make a full recovery, but it’ll take months.’
‘Well, that’s why I
’m here to help.’
‘It’s really good of you. Not many brothers would give up their job and their entire way of life to help out their sister.’
‘You flatter me. But I was due for a change. I didn’t really have any sort of life outside the estate. I even lived in a room over the stables. It was all quite old-fashioned, really. I had my meals provided, so what else did I need? I hardly ever went off the estate except maybe to visit local nurseries.’
‘Really? Did you never have any social life of your own? A girlfriend?’ An attractive chap like you, she added in her head.
Jack’s face seemed to close down. ‘No,’ he answered brusquely, and Anna felt the ease that was coming between them disappear again. ‘Well,’ he said, swallowing down his cup of tea. ‘If you tell me where I’ll find this doctor, I’d better get down there.’
‘Go down into the town centre,’ Anna directed him, feeling oddly disappointed, ‘over the other side of the square and turn right. Go down there and it’s a hundred yards or so down on the right. There are some terraces of big Victorian villas opposite the park. It’s one of those. You can’t miss it. There’s a sign saying “Surgery” by the gate.’
Jack glanced at her with a dark frown. ‘Sssurgery,’ he repeated, hanging onto the initial ‘s’. ‘Right. I’ll see you later.’
He unfolded himself from the deckchair and disappeared into the house. Anna felt all at odds with herself. She may have made a terrible mess of her first meeting with Carrie’s brother, but she wasn’t too sure about him, either!
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Carrie let herself in the front door, weary but relieved that at the sanatorium they were pleased with Jeffery’s progress. The aroma of cooking greeted her. Having Anna there was a godsend. How on earth she would have managed to visit Jeffery if she hadn’t been able to leave Polly with Anna, she really didn’t know.
As she turned into the hallway, she nearly tripped over a large rucksack and a holdall on the floor. What the blazes …? But before she had time to ponder further, the figure of a man appeared in the kitchen doorway and her heart leapt as she realised who it was.
