Far From Home

by Anne Bennett

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Sally said. ‘What a good idea … And who’s the lady who ripped your ticket up?’

  ‘She’s an usherette,’ Kate said. ‘She shows people to their seats. It’s all right when the lights are on, but if people come in when the film has started and the whole place is in darkness, then she has to use that silver torch she has fastened to her belt. It’s for winkling out troublemakers too,’ Kate added. ‘If people keep talking through the film, or are making a nuisance of themselves in other ways, then the usherette comes down and shines the light on them and tells them off – or in some cases chucks them out.’

  ‘Better behave myself then.’

  ‘Yes, you better had, or I’ll throw you out myself,’ Kate said with a grin. Then, with a glance at her watch, she said, ‘It’s all going to start in a minute. That organ will fold away down below, the lights will go down, the curtain will open and …’

  ‘The Lady Vanishes will start,’ Sally finished for her.

  ‘No, it won’t,’ Kate corrected. ‘Or not straightaway anyway. They have a B-film first and then Pathé News and advertisements for what’s coming next week before the main film.’

  ‘I can hardly wait.’

  ‘You won’t have to. Look?’

  The tune on the organ came to an end and then the whole thing, man as well as instrument, slowly vanished. The lights began to dim and the excitement began in Sally’s toes and spread to fill her entire body. There was a whirring sound behind them and Sally saw the beam of light directed on to the screen. She sighed with happiness.

  She enjoyed the film that Kate had disparagingly referred to as a B-film, and she loved the cockerel heralding Pathé News, and even the way the news was presented in a slightly comical way. But when it eventually drew to a close, the lights came on again and the usherettes appeared down each aisle, this time carrying trays around their necks. ‘What sort of ice cream do you want?’

  ‘Oh,’ Sally said, her face aglow. ‘I can’t remember ever having an ice cream before.’

  ‘No,’ Kate agreed. ‘I hadn’t till I came here, but now a visit to the cinema is not the same without an ice cream. You can have a cornet, a tub, or my favourite, a choc ice.’

  ‘Is that what you’re having today?’

  ‘Think so.’

  ‘Then I’ll have the same,’ Sally said. ‘And thanks very much.’

  Afterwards, she thought she had never tasted anything as delicious as that first choc ice. The crisp chocolate split as she bit into it and her mouth filled with cold and creamy ice cream. She said not a word until it was all finished and then she licked her fingers and said, ‘I have never tasted anything like that before in my life. It was wonderful.’

  Kate laughed. ‘You’re easy to please,’ she said. ‘Now settle down in your seat because the main film is about to start.’

  And what a film it was: Sally was captivated from the start. It was just as if she was actually in it. Kate was as entertained by Sally’s reaction as she was by the film itself and they talked about it nearly all the way home.

  ‘Do you go to the cinema a lot?’ Sally asked.

  Kate nodded. ‘A fair bit,’ she said. ‘But sometimes we have to wait for the big films. They tend to go to London first and then the other big cities.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind how long I waited,’ Sally said. ‘I think it’s great to have all this so handy.’

  ‘It is, I know,’ Kate agreed. Then she asked, ‘And what are you going to do with yourself while I’m at work tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, I’ll have a mooch round the shops and that and I’ll do any shopping you need as well.’

  Kate nodded. ‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘I will be grateful for that. I’ll give you a key; I have a spare. Just don’t get lost.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘And if you get fed up looking at the shops and all at Stockland Green, you could always go down to Erdington Village,’ Kate said. ‘It’s only up Reservoir Road and it’s well worth a look around there too.’

  FOUR

  The following morning, as Susie settled herself in the tram beside Kate on their way to work, she said, ‘Nick came round yesterday.’

  ‘Nick?’

  ‘Nick Kassel,’ Susie said. ‘You know, David Burton’s friend?’

  ‘Yeah, I know who he is,’ Kate said. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘To see if we were all right, because we weren’t at the dance on Friday.’

  ‘It isn’t compulsory.’

  ‘I know,’ Susie said. ‘But I thought it nice. He thought we might have been poorly, that’s all. He only just caught us because we had just got in from seeing my nan.’

  ‘It was tipping it down yesterday.’

  Susie nodded. ‘Don’t I know it?’ she said. ‘We were a bit damp, but Nick was saturated. Mom had his coat steaming over the fire before you could say Jack Robinson. And she insisted he stayed for tea. Said he had to, or his coat wouldn’t be dry, and she would not like to be held responsible for him catching pneumonia.’

  ‘And so at last your parents have met the illustrious Nick, who you dance most of the night with, every Friday.’

  ‘Yeah, and they liked him, and to be honest I’m glad because I would like to do more than just dance with him.’

  Kate turned to her friend and saw the light shining in her eyes as she asked gently, ‘And how does he feel?’

  ‘To be absolutely straight with you, Kate,’ Susie said, ‘Nick feels the same way. He has asked me out but I have refused.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I don’t want to leave you on your own.’

  Kate felt suddenly cold. She knew Susie loved her, they were best friends, and she also knew she wanted her to leave the past behind her, where it belonged, and begin to look forward. And this was compounded when Susie said, ‘What do you really feel about David Burton?’

  Kate shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘He’s nice,’ Susie said. ‘And you did admit that you liked him.’

  Kate nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘D’you think you could ever feel more than just liking?’

  Kate shook her head. ‘To promise him anything more wouldn’t be fair to him,’ she said. ‘Most of my heart was left in Donegal with Tim Munroe.’

  ‘I think David would take anything you had left,’ Susie said. ‘He really has got it bad. Nick said he’s dotty about you.’

  ‘That’s why it wouldn’t be right for me to encourage him,’ Kate said.

  She wished she could, really she did, because she knew that it would please Susie and she really wanted to please her, but – even though she did like him better than any other man she had met since leaving Ireland – all she felt for him was a warm friendship. She looked at Susie and shook her head slowly. ‘I’m sorry, Susie. I’m not ready to love anyone else yet.’

  ‘I’m sorry, too,’ Susie said, adding angrily, ‘and it is you that I am sorry for – because you might never be ready. You have been here three years now, and unless you get out of this mindset you’ll never find anyone to match up to your precious Tim, and you’ll look back when it’s too late and see the wasted life you’ve had.’

  Kate was sorry that she had annoyed Susie and very glad that they had to leave the tram then. As soon as they alighted they were joined by a gaggle of girls all making their way to the factory, but the words Susie had flung at her stayed in her mind all day as she worked on her machine.

  Sally had found her way to Erdington and walked down until she came to the village green and a public library that opened on to it. She entered cautiously, glad to be out of the blustery wind, and inside she saw a room spread out with newspapers and magazines and people just sitting reading them. A rather stern-looking young woman was behind the high polished wood counter, dressed in a pale blue blouse that buttoned to the neck and was decorated with a cameo brooch. ‘Can anyone do that?’ Sally asked tentatively.

  The woman smiled, which made her look much more human, as
she asked, ‘Do what?’

  ‘Sit in there,’ Sally said, pointing to the room. ‘And read the papers?

  ‘Certainly, they can,’ the librarian told her. ‘That’s what it’s for. It’s our reading room.’

  Sally couldn’t remember a time when she had been able to sit and read unmolested. Even when she had been at school, homework was one thing, but when that was done, just reading was not a thing her mother had much time for – she would always find a job for Sally if she dared pick up a book. So to sit down in a warm room, ensconced in one of the leather chairs, spread out a paper or magazine on the shiny wooden table in front of her and start to read was a treat for her.

  She left when her stomach told her that it was near dinner-time and retraced her steps back to the flat and made tea and toast for herself as Kate had instructed her to do that morning before she’d left. Then she tidied everything up, picked up the shopping list and basket, bought the things for tea and had a meal waiting for Kate when she came in.

  Kate was grateful, and said so, and then as they sat together at the table, Sally told her about the reading room in Erdington Village Library where she had spent the morning. ‘You can take books out as well,’ Kate told her. ‘And keep two books for a fortnight. It is nice to have a book to read in the evening sometimes. In fact, I have two to return this Saturday.’

  ‘I will probably be on my way home by then.’

  Kate nodded. ‘More than likely,’ she said. ‘Though if Mammy got the letter this morning, the earliest we could get a reply would be Wednesday.’

  ‘Unless she sent a telegram?’

  ‘No,’ Kate said with a definite shake of her head. ‘Mammy wouldn’t use a telegram. I imagine she has a heap of things to say to you and she could hardly do that on a telegram. Rest assured, Mammy will send a letter.’

  However, Wednesday came and went, but on Thursday, just as soon as Sally went back into the house, after spending another morning at the reading room in Erdington Library, she saw the envelope lying on the hall table. Her stomach flipped over in nervousness and she carried it up to the flat as if it was hot and might burn her. It was addressed to Kate. How much Sally wanted to steam it open and read what her mother had to say, but she didn’t dare, and, though she kept herself busy, the hours seemed to drag till she heard Kate’s key in the lock.

  And then perversely she didn’t want Kate to open the letter and read the dreadful things she knew her mother would say about her. Kate saw her agitation and guessed the reason for it and she said gently, ‘We have to know, Sally. Tell you what, let’s leave the meal for now. Just make a cup of tea and we’ll eat when we know what’s in the letter.’

  However, Kate was as surprised as Sally at her mother’s words. She first spoke of her shock and outrage at what Sally had done, which Kate had expected.

  Though I soon knew where she had gone for though her scribbled note told me nothing, Dinny Malone, you know him from the rail bus booking office, saw your father passing through town that same day and told him of yon lass booking her passage to Strabane and telling him she was going to England to see her sister. He thought your father knew all about it though I know he would find it strange that there had been no word of it before. Of course your father knew nothing and was so taken by shock and surprise he had Dinny repeat the tale again before he could bring himself to believe it.

  I was as stunned as he was. When I arrived home and saw no sign of her, if your father hadn’t met up with Dinny I would have had the Guards out and the whole county alerted for I hadn’t seen the note at first.

  As it was I began wondering what she had used for money to pay her way. I knew that though she’d run to you, you would be ignorant of what she intended to do, and would never have sent her money to carry out such a thing, you are far too sensible. The only money in the house is the money for the eggs and I checked it, though I felt sick at the thought that one of my children would steal and from their own parents.

  But that is exactly what Sally did. She took every penny and for that reason she is no longer my daughter and she has no home here for we could never trust her again. She now must make her own way in the world.

  Kate read over the letter again because she could hardly believe it. She would never turn Sally away to fend for herself, and her mother knew that. She was handing over her younger sister’s welfare and care to her and Kate didn’t really want that responsibility. It wasn’t fair to ask that of her.

  ‘Is it really bad?’ Sally asked, alarmed by the look on Kate’s face.

  And because the news was as bad as it could be, and there was no way of shielding her, Kate nodded her head and said, ‘Mammy said she has disowned you and doesn’t want you to go back at all. In fact, she says the farm is no longer your home.’

  ‘Disowned me?’ Sally repeated disbelievingly, for she didn’t think either of her parents would ever do that.

  ‘That’s what she said,’ Kate said. ‘It’s because you stole the egg money. She says neither she nor Daddy will ever be able to trust you again.’

  ‘Oh, Kate, what am I to do?’

  ‘Well, I know what I’m going to do, and that is write to Mammy and beg her to reconsider and say you are desperately sorry and that you will promise to never ever do anything like this again – and see if that does any good. I advise you to do the same; if we get them sent off this evening she will get them by Saturday at the latest.’

  The two girls set to work right away and Kate poured her heart out to her mother, telling her how contrite Sally was and how even as the boat sailed across the Irish Sea she’d known she’d made a grave mistake, but that it had been too late to put it right. She begged her mother to give her one more chance. Sally’s letter was similar, though some of the words were smeared from the tears that had fallen as she wrote. She went out to the postbox right away to post them.

  ‘D’you think she’ll come round?’ Susie said at work the next day when Kate told her about the letter. ‘Like, you know, it was done in the heat of the moment?’

  ‘It can’t really be done in the heat of the moment when you are writing a letter,’ Kate said. ‘It’s not like saying something and then regretting it. Mammy wouldn’t have said she was disowning Sally without talking it over with Daddy. And then Mammy has always been rigid. Once she has made up her mind, then that is usually that.’

  ‘So, you haven’t much faith in the letters you sent?’

  ‘To tell you the truth, Susie, no, I haven’t,’ Kate said. ‘But if Sally can’t go home, I am landed with her. I can hardly put her out on the streets.’

  ‘No, course you can’t. Hope you are wrong about those letters making a difference then. Is she very upset?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Kate said. ‘She is still only sixteen. Anyway, after leaving her on her own all day, I can hardly do the same half the night as well, and so I won’t be at the dance tonight either.’

  ‘All right,’ Susie said. ‘I do understand that, but I might go anyway.’

  ‘On your own?’

  ‘No,’ Susie said. ‘Nick asked to take me when he came round last Sunday. We were going to call for you too.’

  Kate felt strangely hurt and yet she knew that was an unreasonable way to feel. ‘Well, now you don’t have to,’ she said briskly to hide her pique. ‘And I hope it stays fine for you.’

  Susie shrugged. She was sorry to upset Kate, but it couldn’t be helped, and she went to the dance that night and tried to help David get over his disappointment that Kate hadn’t been able to make it again.

  Kate and Sally’s energies and thoughts all over the weekend were totally centred on the reply their mother would make to their impassioned plea, but it didn’t come until Tuesday, and in it she said that she had talked it over again with their father and he was in agreement that they stand firm. Sally was no longer their daughter and would not be welcomed at the farm, which she could never again consider her home.

  ‘That’s it then,’ Kate said that night when s
he had read the letter. She handed it to Sally as she said, ‘You are stuck with me in Birmingham, whether you want to be or not and things are going to be a bit different now.’ She sighed and said, ‘You will have to get a job for a start because my wages won’t run to keeping the two of us. I’ll start bringing in the Mail and Despatch at night and see what’s going. After Christmas, we will have to look at finding a larger flat, because this will probably be a bit cramped with the two of us living in it on a permanent basis. We certainly need a bigger bed at least – I nearly landed on the floor again last night.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Sally said. ‘I am causing you an awful lot of trouble, aren’t I?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kate said candidly, ‘you are, but I suppose this is what big sisters are for.’

  In the end, it wasn’t hard to find Sally a job. On the following Saturday morning, Sally had been buying food at the shops at Stockland Green for the evening meal. She’d crossed to the Co-op to buy the bread Kate had specifically asked for, when she saw an advert in the front of the Plaza cinema for a trainee usherette. It was exactly the type of place she would love to work in, and she turned to the commissionaire who was outside having a smoke. She wasn’t surprised that he smiled at her – most men smiled at Sally – and so encouraged, she said, ‘Do you know if they are still looking for an usherette?’

  The man nodded. ‘Oh yeah, they’re still looking,’ he said. ‘Freda only left yesterday; she couldn’t give proper notice see, because she had just had word that her mother had been knocked down by a car and was in a bad way. She just had to go quick like.’

  ‘Oh I see.’

  ‘If I were you, I would go in now and see the manager,’ the man advised. ‘Could you start straight away like?’