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Custard Tarts and Broken Hearts

Page 24

by Mary Gibson


  ‘Sam will take it very bad. I’m so worried about him. I’ve never seen him so miserable, not since the days I used to turn him down for a lift on that blasted cart, do you remember?’

  Lily smiled at her friend. ‘Weren’t we mean to him?’

  ‘You were worse than me!’

  The two friends fell silent as they leaned on the river wall, a musky dampness wafting up from the river mud. Suddenly Lily turned to Nellie.

  ‘Tell you what, me and Jock’s going to the picture palace Saturday night. I’ll get him to ask Sam. Want to come?’

  Nellie hesitated.

  ‘I’ll treat you, if you haven’t got the money this week.’

  Nellie shook her head. The truth was that with Freddie’s extra earnings they’d been able to afford a few extras lately. ‘No, I’m all right this week. What’s on?’

  ‘What’s on? Who cares a tuppence what’s on? You’ll be sitting next to Sam!’

  Nellie laughed and agreed. Besides, when Lily told her it was The Prisoner of Zenda, she hoped it would cheer Sam up. If he couldn’t actually go on his big adventure, she thought bitterly, at least he could watch it on the pictures!

  They arranged to meet at the picture palace in Grange Road on Saturday night. Alice was happy to send Nellie off with good grace, but her brothers were sulking because they both wanted to see The Prisoner of Zenda themselves. Even Bobby refused to be excited for her until Nellie promised to take them and Alice next time.

  ‘Come on, boys, be fair,’ said Alice. ‘Nell don’t get no time to herself, she deserves a night out with her friends.’

  Bobby sulkily handed Nellie the wide-brimmed hat she’d brightened up with new ribbon and Freddie, declaring a truce, mumbled, ‘Just make sure you pay attention, so you can tell us the story.’

  Sam arrived at the picture palace wearing his best suit, collar and tie. His normal flat cap had been replaced by a smart straw boater, which she complimented him on.

  ‘Matty made me wear it, she said you’d like it.’

  Nellie smiled. Matty was sharp as a drawer full of knives.

  When Lily and Jock arrived, talk turned to the coming baby and Nellie noticed that the two boys refrained from any mention of the war, which was noteworthy in itself these days. But Nellie couldn’t escape it, much as she tried. Kitchener, with his droopy eyes, even droopier moustache and pointing finger, pleaded from every hoarding: Your country needs you. Still, tonight she was glad the boys seemed to forget Kitchener too. They were all excited to see the film and, rushing to get a good seat, Lily ensured that Nellie sat next to Sam. The lights dimmed, and as the organ in the pit started playing, Nellie relaxed, looking forward to being spirited away to a make-believe world where good triumphed over evil, where no real blood was shed and where every dead soldier got up at the end of the film and walked off the set.

  In the light of the flickering screen, Nellie stole glances at Sam. He seemed enraptured, totally engrossed by the film. She was aware of his arm resting next to hers and when he shifted in his seat, she held her breath. Desperately trying to follow the plot, so she could give the boys details later, she found she could only concentrate on the point where her arm met Sam’s. When the story took a romantic turn, she noticed Lily and Jock cuddling up closer and prayed fervently that Sam couldn’t see her blushes in the dark.

  Then came an interval, after which the organ struck up a rousing military tune. The lyrics, plastered over the screen so the audience could join in, filled Nellie with dread.

  Oh we don’t want to lose you, but we think you ought to go, For your King and your Country, both need you so!

  She cursed Lord Kitchener for following her into the picture palace. The lyrics faded out and were replaced by footage of young men in khaki drilling, then boarding steamers for France. Suddenly she felt Sam lurch forward. He climbed over people’s legs, tripping and stumbling, in his haste to escape the theatre. Lily clutched her arm.

  ‘Go after him, Nell,’ she whispered. ‘Jock’s told him he’s signed up.’

  Nellie ran out of the picture palace, just in time to see Sam rip his straw boater from his head and begin running. As he turned the corner, she called out to him. She knew he’d heard her, but he didn’t stop or turn round, he just kept running. When she got to the corner he was nowhere to be seen. The street was crowded with young men and couples, enjoying their Saturday night off. She stooped to retrieve Sam’s hat, brushing off the dust.

  ‘Oh, Sam, you soppy ’apporth,’ she muttered.

  Then she remembered that when his mother was very ill, there was a place he’d liked to go that comforted and calmed him. She was certain he would go there now. Sure enough, when she arrived back at Wicks’s yard, the gate was unlocked. She went in, carefully swinging the gate shut behind her, and walked across to the horses’ stalls. There he was, his arms round Blackie’s neck, feeding him a couple of sugar lumps. She heard him speaking soothingly to the animal, but she thought it was more himself he was soothing and she longed to just walk up to him and put her arms round him. Instead she called softly to him. He slowly removed his arms from Blackie and turned to face her.

  ‘I thought I’d find you here,’ she said.

  He gave Blackie a pat.

  ‘You dropped your hat.’ She held it out. He took it and shoved it back on to his head.

  ‘Thanks, Nellie, I’m ashamed of myself, running out like that.’ He took a heaving sigh. ‘It’s the coward’s way, ain’t it?’

  Looking more miserable than she’d ever seen him, he led her to the gate. ‘Come on, least I can do is walk you home, even if it is only next door.’

  ‘Sam, I don’t want you to go home so upset. Come round our back yard.’

  They walked, single file, through the passageway between the houses leading to the back alley. Nellie softly lifted the latch of her back-yard gate, and was relieved not to hear Alice or the boys call out. They negotiated their way round the penny-farthing and perched themselves side by side on the trailer cart.

  ‘I’ve never seen you like this, Sam,’ she began. ‘Is it because Jock signed up today?’

  He heaved a great sigh and shook his head. ‘Partly, Nellie,’ he said softly, ‘and it didn’t help that I had a visit from George Gilbie.’

  ‘George Gilbie? What did he want?’

  ‘I couldn’t believe it when he knocked on the door. I was surprised he even remembered where we lived! Anyway, he came to tell me I’m a disgrace to the Gilbie name, reckons I should get myself round the recruiting office.’

  ‘Well, that takes the cake! Bloody cheek, how many times did he show his face when your mum was ill?’

  ‘Not once. But he made me feel like a piece of dirt under his shoe. I could’ve knocked his block off and if the kids hadn’t been there I would’ve.’

  ‘He didn’t say it in front of the kids?’

  Nellie could see that Sam was trembling now with anger and shame. He spun the boater round and round in his hands. ‘I think he did it deliberately, wanted to shame me. Then he says If you’re worried about leaving the children, I’ve already discussed it with my wife and we’ll take them in, so you can go and do your duty.’

  Sam pounded the tyre of the penny-farthing.

  ‘Oh, Sam, you’re not going to do that, are you?’ Nellie knew it would be like sending the children to live with strangers.

  ‘I don’t know I’ve got any choice,’ he said morosely. ‘I daresay Katie Gilbie’s a decent enough woman, though it’s well known she does like her drop of drink, but it’s George worries me. He wouldn’t be nice to them, he’d make sure they knew their place all right.’

  ‘What do you mean, you’ve got no choice?’ she said. ‘The kids have got to come first.’

  ‘Don’t look at me like that, Nell, I can’t bear the thought of sending them there, but the fact is they’ve got to go somewhere. I’ve made up me mind …’

  She was very still. The night seemed to tremble around them; the day had been warm and no
w a hazy smog filled the purple-tinged sky. It seemed to descend thickly, filling the little back yard with ominous shadows, muffling their voices. She felt that if she were still enough, silent enough, time would stop and he would never finish that sentence, but he did.

  ‘… I’m going to enlist.’

  She was barely aware that she let out a groan, or that she reached out to hold his hand.

  And you can’t do it without my help, can you, Sam? she thought, and before she could change her mind heard herself saying, ‘I’ll have them, Sam. They can come and live with us.’

  What she had so long resisted, fulfilling her promise to Lizzie, came to her as naturally as her next breath. In the end, it was simple: however much she’d wished it otherwise, the man she loved was going to war and if taking in his family would help him get through it, then that was what she would do. She understood now that not all promises were burdens. This felt more like a comfort; at least she could do something for Sam while he was away fighting for his country. The wheel of fate groaned, turned and clicked into place. In the face of Sam’s misery and distress, Nellie’s pledge to Lizzie was fulfilled. He would never have asked her directly, yet she saw immediately relief flooding his face.

  ‘Are you sure, Nellie? You know you’re not obliged—’

  ‘Don’t think for one minute it’s because of what I promised your mum, it’s not that at all. If you must go, I’d rather your mind be easy about the kids, that’s the only reason.’

  ‘The only reason?’

  She felt his hand grip hers more tightly. Though her heart felt ripped in two, she would not tell him the other reason. If she told him now that she loved him, he would feel she was asking for some emotional recompense for taking on his family.

  ‘There’s only one promise matters to me now, Sam.’ She took her hand from his and placed it on the penny-farthing wheel, thrumming her fingers round the spokes.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll look after the old penny-farthing and I’ll look after your family. You just promise to come back home for them.’

  23

  Oh, We Don’t Want to Lose You

  They agreed to tell the children about Sam’s decision the next day, but Nellie thought that, as her sister would be shouldering half the burden with her, she had to talk it over with Alice. She deserved the chance to say no. So, after saying goodbye to Sam on Saturday night, she slipped into bed, woke Alice and told her. Alice’s response was predictably generous and practical.

  ‘Oh, the poor little mites, he’s all the family they’ve got left; of course I don’t mind them coming here! We’ll have to work out where they’ll sleep, though.’

  The little house in Vauban Street was already bursting at the seams, with only two bedrooms, a front kitchen where the family lived and ate, and a small back scullery.

  ‘What with all them soddin’ matchboxes, we’ll have to put the kids up in the shed!’

  The girls laughed, but Nellie was only half joking.

  ‘Sam says we can talk about all the details tomorrow. They’re coming for dinner and we’ll tell them all together. Matty’ll take it bad, but he’s made up his mind.’

  ‘How do you feel about it, Nell?’ her sister asked, turning to face her in the bed. Moonlight fell across the pillow and glinted off an obvious teardrop as it trickled down Nellie’s cheek.

  ‘Oh, Al.’ She nestled her head into her sister’s neck. ‘That stupid song keeps going through my mind, I can’t get it to stop: ‘We don’t want to lose you, but we think you ought to go.’ Well, I don’t,’ she sobbed, ‘I don’t think he ought to go, and I don’t want him to go!’

  ‘Does he know how you feel?’ Her sister stroked her hair.

  ‘He knows I don’t want him to go, but I don’t think he really knows why.’

  Alice sighed. At fourteen, she was wise beyond her years. ‘People have a way of knowing, don’t they? But he might not feel he can say anything, not till he’s back safe and sound.’

  Nellie nodded and swallowed, taking her cue from sensible Alice. ‘And they say it’ll all be over by Christmas, don’t they?’

  Sam, Charlie and Matty were a cheery threesome when they arrived on Sunday morning. They had been sharing some joke on the way and when Nellie answered the door they were convulsed with laughter. She wondered how Sam could laugh, but it was the same as those men waiting outside the recruiting office – no sadness, no fear, only a seemingly heady joy.

  God forgive you, Sam Gilbie, she thought. I think you’re actually happy.

  She could only suppose there must be some emotional switch men could turn on, which converted the prospect of horror into the hope of adventure; perhaps they felt it was what they were made for. To her it seemed pitiless, but if it was light-heartedness that would get him through the coming danger, she didn’t begrudge him his laughter.

  Well, she asked herself, that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? To see him lose all that misery? Now you’ve got your wish.

  All this she registered between opening the door and ushering them into the kitchen. It wasn’t until dinner was over that they announced the coming change in their lives. They still sat at the table and Nellie could see the boys itching to make their escape. She interrupted the rowdy chatter. ‘All right, everyone pipe down. Me and Sam’s got something to tell you.’

  Matty’s head shot up and she clapped her hands. ‘You’re getting married!’

  Sam blushed and the boys hooted with laughter.

  ‘Don’t you know nothing, you stupid little canary?’ Charlie said. ‘They’re not even walking out!’

  ‘Put a sock in it, Charlie, and don’t talk to your sister like that.’ Sam’s voice was stern but, softening, he turned to his sister.

  ‘It’s not that, Matty, but in a way we are going to be one family, so you’re not far wrong. The fact is I’m signing up for the army tomorrow and that means I’ll have to be away from home for a bit.’

  Matty’s face fell and Charlie’s brightened considerably. At thirteen he was mad for the war. ‘You’re going to fight the Bosch!’ He was beaming. ‘Now I can tell ’em in school to shut their mouths up about you!’

  Nellie and Sam exchanged looks. So the slurs had already reached the schoolyard. Matty started crying. ‘I don’t want you to go, Sam. We’ll have to go into the workhouse!’

  He opened his arms and Matty ran round the table to him.

  ‘Shhh, you don’t think I’d let that happen, do you? What do you think of coming and living here with Nellie for a bit, eh?’

  Nellie gave her an encouraging look. ‘You can keep all your own things, Matty, we’ll put your bed in mine and Alice’s room, and we can carry on with your cookery lessons. Won’t you like that?’

  After some coaxing, Matty was reassured and actually began to see the positive side. ‘I think it’ll be more fun, living with girls than just boys all the time,’ she said, after a while. ‘At least I’ll have someone to talk to, won’t I?’

  Nellie remembered the night she’d spent in Matty’s bed and how the little girl had chattered all night. There were all sorts of sacrifices required in a war, she thought ruefully, and sleepless nights might be the least of hers.

  Charlie needed no such persuading. He was already fast friends with her brothers, especially Freddie who, at twelve, was close to him in age and temperament. So it was settled that he would sleep in the boys’ room, and by the time the dinner things were cleared away they were already hatching schemes to bring Charlie into what Freddie now called his ‘roses business’ of dung selling. ‘Fall in shit, come up smelling of roses!’ he explained to Charlie, with all the knowing pride of a successful businessman.

  Sam would enlist in the Royal Field Artillery, like Jock, who’d already been assigned as a horse driver, since he’d been used to driving his father’s cart. Jock urged Sam to sign up to the same regiment, as they were particularly in need of men used to working with horses. An added incentive was the extra pay offered t
o anyone who could drive a horse team. Sam spent a long day at the recruiting office being questioned, weighed and measured, then waiting around for forms to be filled in. Eventually he was deemed fit for service in the Royal Field Artillery and rushed back to tell Nellie.

  ‘I’ve got me papers!’ His hand shook with excitement as he held up the documents. ‘Can you come for a walk with me, Nell? I couldn’t keep still if I tried!’

  She nodded and nipped back into the kitchen, where Alice was working on the matchboxes. ‘Alice, Sam’s back.’ Nellie looked at the clock on the mantel. The boys would soon be in bed. ‘Can you spare me for an hour? He wants to go for a walk.’

  Alice looked up from her matchboxes. ‘Take your jacket, don’t rush back!’ She smiled as she bent her head to her work.

  The early September evening was fine and warm, and Nellie had no idea where they were walking to. She just concentrated on keeping up with Sam, who was striding ahead as though he were already in uniform.

  ‘Hold up a minute, you’re not on a route march yet!’ she complained.

  He slowed his pace a little as they made their way down Spa Road, towards St James’s Church. Nellie looked up as they passed Pearce Duff’s factory on the corner. The windows were open and the chatter of the girls on the late shift drifted down, with the golden custard powder that coated every window sill. Nellie smelled the familiar vanilla sweetness and felt strangely comforted. Some things were going on as normal at least. Just as they passed beneath the St James railway arch, a steam train thundered overhead and Nellie jumped as the tunnel reverberated like a booming kettledrum. She always scuttled through the railway arches and now she instinctively took hold of Sam’s arm. He looked down and smiled at her.

  ‘Good job you’re not going out to the front. They say the sound of the guns is deafening. I’ll have to get used to that, especially being in the artillery.’

 

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