Walking Back to Happiness

by Anne Bennett

  There was and Hannah also felt it to be an excuse. Peter said he wouldn’t be able to get time off at the moment and Sam wrote that he couldn’t leave his grandfather, being the only one left, and from Margaret in Africa there was no word at all.

  Despite these letters of regret, the day was almost perfect. Although it was only March, the sun shone from a pale blue sky all morning and both Hannah and Gloria had tears in their eyes as they watched Josie, her face so radiant with happiness that it was truly beautiful, walk down the aisle of the Abbey on the arm of her brother. Martin looked distinguished in his grey pinstriped suit and shining black shoes, his dark hair slicked back with Brylcreem.

  Not for Josie the wartime restrictions and the practical costume. She had more money at her disposal than Hannah had ever had and anyway, this marriage wasn’t one of mutual convenience, but one of true love that Hannah had seen developing between them for months.

  The wedding dress was a work of art and so too was Angela’s bridesmaid’s dress of apricot satin. But there was no danger that Angela would upstage the bride, for Josie’s beauty shone from within her and Hannah wished for her and Phil all the happiness in the world.

  Now that Josie was an adult and soon to be a married woman, the relationship between the two women had changed. But the love they’d always had for each other hadn’t diminished at all, but deepened if anything, and Hannah knew she’d miss Josie more than she’d missed her own daughter.

  Lent was forgotten in the reception that went on in the Lyndhurst pub, just next to the Abbey, even by Father Fitzgerald, who’d accepted the invitation to attend.

  Father Fitzgerald had always had a soft spot for Josie. He’d never forgotten the day Arthur had sought out his advice about the child before he’d married Hannah and he was glad to know the advice he’d given him that night had been heeded. Strange man, Arthur – he’d always felt it. Still, the man had taken the child in. Pity he hadn’t let her take the eleven-plus, the teachers said she had a good brain.

  But all in all, Josie had made good, coming top in her exams for typing, shorthand and book-keeping, he’d heard, and had got a good job in an insurance firm and now this marriage to a lecturer at the university no less and what’s more a good Catholic like herself. And as for the wedding – well! He’d heard tell Arthur Bradley was inclined to be mean. The things people say. There was nothing mean about this wedding. Lavish would be a better word to describe it. It must have been just a rumour about his meanness, Father Fitzgerald thought, and accepted a glass of sherry from the silver tray that the waitress offered him and beamed at everyone around him.

  Hannah was glad to talk to Pauline again and Tilly too. Josie had insisted on inviting her once she knew the whole story of Mike Murphy and the child Hannah had had by him and how supportive Tilly had been. Gloria also said she’d like to meet another one who’d had Hannah’s interests at heart.

  Tilly came alone although the invitation had been for the whole family.

  Bring the old man? Not likely. Nor the kids either. His mother can have them for a few days and see how she likes it then. As for Ted, well, we couldn’t talk properly in front of him. This isn’t part of his life and he’ll know no one. He’s best stopping here, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I didn’t see your wedding and you didn’t come to mine neither, but these people, Josie and Gloria and even Pauline, you write so much about, I feel as if I know them already. And I can’t wait to see your daughter again.

  There was another one Tilly couldn’t wait to see too, but thought it better not to put that in a letter. Letters could be read by others.

  All in all, Tilly got on well with Gloria, Josie and even Pauline, who she was all set to resent slightly. She hadn’t revised her opinion of Arthur though. When she’d first seen him in Leeds, she’d marked him out as a nondescript nowt with narrow, cold eyes, and at the wedding she found he got worse the more she saw of him. She saw quite plainly that Josie and Hannah’s American relations hadn’t taken to him either. She couldn’t begin to understand why Hannah had married the thin man with spectacles perched on his nose, an exaggerated idea of his own importance and no charm whatsoever, unlike Reg and Elizabeth Banks, who she thought lovely people.

  Angela was beautiful, her manners perfect before her father and her American relations. But Tilly had seen how offhand she was, even downright rude and defiant to her mother and how used she was, within the family at least, to having the lion’s share of attention and getting her own way in everything. Hannah had often expressed her concern at these traits in Angela and Tilly thought her right to be bothered about it.

  Tilly was used to observing people. It was a habit she’d picked up waiting on and she wondered if anyone had noticed that Gloria was anything but well. Makeup carefully applied can hide many things, but sometimes the colour would drain from Gloria’s face altogether and it would look quite grey, while her eyes would glaze over and she’d nip her lips together. She was obviously in pain and Tilly also noticed she ate little of the meal, though she drank plenty of the wine.

  She would have mentioned it to Hannah, but a wedding wasn’t really the time and anyway, she told herself, she probably knew. It wasn’t something one broadcasted. So later when she got close to Hannah, she said nothing about Gloria, but asked eagerly, ‘Is the delicious doctor here?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Hannah hissed. ‘Why should he be?’

  ‘Well, isn’t he your boss?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He’s not any more than that yet then?’

  ‘Tilly, keep your voice down,’ Hannah said, looking around to see if anyone was in earshot before she went on. In an undertone, she continued, ‘No, he’s not my lover, but my special friend, and that’s how he will remain.’

  Josie and Phil had only time for a few days’ honeymoon because of Phil’s lectures and they intended to take a proper honeymoon at Easter. Josie was glad of this because she really wanted to spend time with her brother and sister who were staying on for a week after the wedding.

  Hannah was glad too and after Angela returned to school, she spent as much time as possible in their company. Vic was very understanding about her having time off and she showed them the city she’d brought Josie to live in, a task made easier by the car they hired. They visited the city centre and Josie’s beloved Bull Ring one day and another day went to Sutton Park, marvelling at the lakes in some parts and woodland and meadows in another and the miles and miles of open space at such a premium in New York.

  When Josie returned, they toured the art galleries and museums and visited the Botanical Gardens and Cannon Hill Park adjacent to them. And then, on their last day, as the sun with a hint of warmth in it shone from a sky of Wedgwood blue, decorated with fluffy white clouds, they drove across the city to the Lickey Hills, where they spent a very enjoyable day.

  Hannah was amazed how she slipped so easily into the friendship she’d enjoyed with Martin and Siobhan as children growing up and was pleased that they had time to spend with their little sister they’d been separated from for so long. Arthur was never invited on their outings and Hannah wondered why no one mentioned it. But Martin unbeknown to Hannah had asked Josie.

  ‘Don’t ask him,’ she advised. ‘He and Hannah don’t get on.’ Martin wasn’t surprised. He had spoken to Arthur at the wedding, making an effort for he was Hannah’s husband, but found the man boorish, almost objectionable, and very boring. He had no desire to spend more time in the man’s company and Siobhan, who’d made similar efforts, felt the same.

  Yet Arthur and Hannah were married for life, so Martin asked, ‘Why don’t they?’

  How could Josie begin to explain? There were things she could never tell anyone. ‘It’s a long story,’ she said. ‘We haven’t time to go into it now. Anyway, I’d rather not spend time talking about him.’

  ‘I take it you’re not that keen either?’

  ‘No. No, I’m not, but let’s not spoil the time we have talking about it.’


  ‘Right enough,’ Martin said. ‘Not another word.’

  He said nothing further to Hannah or Josie, but talked about it long into the night with his wife, Deirdre, Siobhan, and her husband, Jonathan. ‘I thought it was odd her not asking us over for a meal,’ Siobhan said. ‘It’s what I would have expected her to do. Now I understand a little more.’

  Hannah would have loved to have them over to her own home, but she was never sure how Arthur would behave. He wasn’t aware she was with her American relatives or even that they were still in the country and Hannah had no intention of enlightening him.

  It was after she’d bid them all a tearful goodbye that she unburdened herself to Vic. ‘I miss them so much,’ she said. ‘Josie, too, of course. The house seems so empty.’

  Never was she so thankful for her job, but that only accounted for the days, not the weekends or evenings which strung out long and terribly lonely. How she wished she had the money to fly to New York as Martin and Siobhan urged her to.

  They wouldn’t have any idea of her penury. Josie’s wedding had been lavish enough and her own clothes and those of Arthur were classy and well-made, for Arthur would always give money to Hannah to impress. He didn’t want her to appear drab for the fancy Yanks and more importantly, Reg and Elizabeth Banks.

  It bore no resemblance to the man who doled out meagre amounts of housekeeping for now that Pauline had left, Hannah had charge of the housekeeping purse. She knew Pauline had had far more than Arthur allowed her, but when she complained to Arthur that it wasn’t enough, he’d barked back, ‘Pauline was feeding a household. You have only yourself mainly because most evenings I eat out now.’

  What he said was true, but there were more expenses to running a house than food costs. She was glad she earned a decent wage as a good proportion of it now went to supplement the housekeeping, for she wouldn’t beg Arthur for more money.

  And so she struggled through the days and endured the evenings, missing Josie’s chatter and the talks she used to enjoy with Pauline.

  Josie had urged her to visit often, but she wouldn’t. A young couple out working all day would value their weekends and their evenings together. Not that they seemed to have much time alone. In the four months since Josie’s marriage, Hannah had visited them just twice, though they’d been to see her far more often, and both times she found the house over-run with teenagers – students of Phil’s.

  Hannah had never visited Moseley before and knew little about it. It was Josie who told her of the separate thriving little village of the past very like Erdington, which long ago had been sucked into the conurbation of Birmingham.

  The larger houses had almost all been made into flats and a great proportion of these were occupied by students. In the smaller terraced houses, the area was multicultural with Afro-Caribbean, Asian and West Indian people happily rubbing shoulders with their white neighbours. Josie loved it and she and Phil often shopped in the ethnic shops, buying ingredients the standard British shops didn’t stock and bringing them home to experiment with exotic ethnic dishes. They often tried them out on Phil’s students, many of whom would pop in for a meal when their funds were low. On Hannah’s two visits, she got on well with them, though she sometimes found their attire strange.

  The boys’ hair generally was worn as long as the girls’ and held back from their face with bands of woven cloth circling their heads. They were similarly dressed in ragged jeans and tops that looked as if they’d been bought large for them ‘to grow into’ and on their feet, from one extreme to the other, they wore either sandals or ungainly boots.

  They sat in groups, drinking coffee from earthenware mugs and smoking endless cigarettes, while they spoke of the world’s problems. In particular, they were concerned about conscription, which most lads had deferred until they’d finished their university course, and the CND march planned for Birmingham in the summer.

  ‘CND?’ Hannah said questioningly to Josie.

  ‘Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament,’ Josie told her.

  Hannah wasn’t much the wiser and Josie went on, ‘You must know that Britain, as well as America and Russia, has nuclear weapons now?’

  Hannah hadn’t and was surprised Josie knew. But since she’d met Cynthia and through her, Phil and Peter, and they started going about together, Josie’s eyes had been opened. She’d realised she had only the very basic education, never encouraged even to ask questions, and there were great gaps in her knowledge which Phil had been happy to fill in for her.

  And now she said to Hannah, ‘As well as having their own atomic weapons, they’ve loaned out nuclear launching pads to the Americans. Tried to hide them, of course, calling them RAF bases, but they’re not. I mean, what is the point of us all pointing nuclear weapons at each other? They say it’s a deterrent, but really they have the potential to blow the whole world up. Not,’ she added, ‘that I trust the Russians anymore. I mean, look at the ballistic missile they tested last year.’

  Hannah didn’t know what a ballistic missile was but she acknowledged that it didn’t sound a very friendly thing to have about. She knew as well as any that in a future war, nuclear weapons could be used and that very few people would survive that. She gave a sudden shiver and said, ‘So there’s a march about it all, is there?’

  ‘Well, we can’t just leave it, can we?’ Josie said. ‘Cynthia is coming too and Peter. I mean, as Phil explained it to me this is our world now, for us and our children. Older people made a bit of a mess of it one way and another. I mean two world wars! But then ordinary people didn’t have much of a say in any of it. Now they are demanding more. The voice of the people.’

  Hannah didn’t know whether governments ever listened to ordinary people, but she understood more of Josie’s concern for a safer world when she uncharacteristically called in after work one evening in September.

  Hannah had barely got in from work herself. Arthur had informed her that morning that he’d be eating out, a fairly normal occurrence now, and she had no desire to cook just for herself and was wondering what she fancied when the knock on the door came. ‘I wanted you to be the first to know, well, after Phil, of course,’ an excited Josie exclaimed as soon as the door was opened a crack. ‘Oh Hannah, I’m expecting. I’m nearly three months gone.’

  ‘Oh!’ Hannah didn’t have to ask if Josie was pleased, but she was still only twenty-one. She wondered if it had been planned. Did that matter? The child was much wanted, by Josie at least.

  ‘Is Phil pleased too?’ she said, drawing Josie inside.

  ‘Oh yes. Like a dog with two tails,’ Josie said. ‘It’s what we both wanted. To have our family while we’re young enough to enjoy them.’

  ‘You’ll give up your job then?’

  ‘Not yet, but I will for a while at least,’ Josie said. ‘Later, I might go back part-time.’

  Josie ate with Hannah. She hadn’t intended to, but later she was to say to Phil, ‘I had to. She looked so lonely somehow and it seemed cruel to land on her with that news and then just leave her.’

  It was a splendid meal. At Josie’s house they ate a lot of spicy food mixed usually with rice or pasta. Hannah didn’t do meals like that, but the pork chops which had seemed such a burden for her to cook for herself suddenly seemed an excellent idea for them both. Together they sat down to the wonderful dinner and discussed the baby and Hannah thought that maybe Josie’s baby would be her consolation for not having a family of her own. Maybe she could share in the care of Josie’s baby and she began to look forward to the birth possibly as much as Josie did.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The following Saturday morning, Hannah made her way to Gloria’s house. Gloria had eventually been unable to withstand both Hannah and Amy’s nagging and had gone to the doctor’s who’d sent her straight to hospital for tests.

  She was expecting to get the results on Friday, and Hannah had been tempted to phone that day, but felt it would be better to see her face to face and so, armed with a bunch of flowers, she wen
t to visit her friend.

  Amy met her at the door, a grave expression on her face. ‘Gloria’s in bed,’ she said, taking the bunch of flowers from Hannah. ‘She was taken bad again. I’m seeing to things at the moment, but she’s not taking any more bookings.’

  ‘What did the doctor say?’

  A cloud passed over Amy’s face. ‘It’s not good,’ she said.

  A little later Hannah looked down on the figure in the bed, grey-faced and shrunken so that she seemed swamped by the bedclothes, and would have known the news was bad just by looking at her. ‘A tumour in her stomach,’ Amy had said. ‘They can do nothing for her.’

  ‘Has Amy told you?’ Gloria asked, her voice sounding weary.

  Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. She gave one brief nod. Gloria reached out and took her hand and Hannah sat down by the bed. ‘Now don’t you be upsetting yourself,’ she said. ‘Lord knows, I’ve had a good innings and I’m in pain, Hannah. I want to go. It will be a relief.’

  Hannah couldn’t speak. She felt choked by the tears she fought to control, the lump in her throat so large, it hurt to swallow. ‘I’ve sent for my solicitor,’ Gloria went on. ‘To put my house in order. Doctor Simmonds said I haven’t long. He can’t put a timescale on it, but it’s best to be prepared. Father Fitzgerald’s coming tomorrow.’

  Hannah couldn’t believe she was hearing this. That this wonderful, lovely woman would soon not be here. She wanted to stamp her feet and scream and denounce everything and everyone, God, the Saints, doctors – everyone. None of them could keep this dear woman alive.

  She sat by her bedside, took hold of her hand and told her how fond she was of her and how much she would miss her. She told her how grateful she was for Gloria taking her in that time when she’d been in such a state and the friendship and love that had subsequently grown between them. Tears rolled down her face as she spoke and down Gloria’s, too, tears of memories shared, and filled with sadness that the time to say any of this was running out.