Sunshine and Showers

by June Francis

‘Sorry. But don’t put it off,’ warned Alice. ‘Start today. Do you want me to design your outfit?’

  Joy nodded.

  ‘I’ll get samples of materials for you to choose from. Say I drop by your place in a fortnight’s time? By then, if you’re very, very good, you might have shed a few pounds. I just wish you could have your own Prince Charming.’ Alice fluttered her fingers and left.

  ‘So this wedding…?’ said Hanny.

  Joy tapped her chin with her fingers. ‘I know it won’t be a love match like yours but you will be my matron of honour, won’t you?’

  Hanny smiled. ‘Of course. Will you be having bridesmaids as well?’

  ‘I might as well push the boat out because I’m not planning on marrying again. I’ll have your Janet and Robbie’s two nieces, Wendy and Minnie,’ said Joy. ‘And perhaps I’ll invite Patsy and Kathy Doyle. It’ll be a day out for them.’

  ‘That would be kind.’ Hanny refilled their sherry glasses. ‘Have this one last drink before your diet. To you, little sister!’ She raised her glass.

  Joy glanced down at her ample proportions and sighed.

  ‘So when will you visit Patsy?’ asked Hanny.

  Joy wrinkled her nose. ‘As soon as I have time. I vow I won’t forget.’

  ‘You need to find out as soon as possible if the girl is being mistreated and put a stop to it. Some men can be such swines.’

  Joy did not deny it. ‘Surely, if there is any funny business going on with Mr Tanner, his wife would be aware of it.’

  ‘She could be one of those who close their eyes to anything unpleasant like Mother did.’

  Joy nodded. ‘I admire the girl’s sense of responsibility, guts and determination. I have to help her.’

  Hanny’s blue eyes rested on her sister’s serious face. ‘But you don’t want any children of your own to love. It’s sad really.’

  ‘If I can’t have Chris’s children, then I’d rather not bother.’

  Hanny understood and said no more, but she could not help worrying that her sister might discover that once she had that gold band on her finger, then Robbie Bennett might demand more from her than she was prepared to give.

  Chapter Three

  ‘There’s something about churches that makes me uncomfortable,’ said Robbie Bennett. He and Joy were crossing Rocky Lane towards the rear gate that opened onto the back garden of his house.

  ‘You should come with me more often.’ Joy’s smile was strained. ‘I really thought with you being a musician that you’d especially enjoy the choir and the organ.’

  ‘I’ve nothing against them but I’d be just as happy getting married in a registry office.’

  ‘But I wouldn’t,’ said Joy shortly.

  They reached the other side of the road, where Robbie paused to light a cigarette. After the first puff he began coughing. Jby looked at him anxiously and waited until he stopped spitting and spluttering before carrying on walking, and resumed their conversation. ‘I wouldn’t feel properly married if I wasn’t married in church,’ she said.

  ‘That’s why I decided to let you have your way,’ rumbled Robbie. ‘Although why you need to make such a big fuss I don’t know. I’m sixty-six, Joy, and I’d be happier spending the money going on a cruise for our honeymoon.’

  Joy’s stomach seemed to flip over. Honeymoon! A cruise! It was the first time he had mentioned either. After his last wife died, he had invited himself along on a cruise that Joy had arranged for herself and her mother, who had been living with Hanny at the time. The three of them had got on reasonably well, so he had suggested that Mrs Kirk move in with them. Joy had agreed, thinking her sister had done her share of caring for their mother.

  ‘It’s my own money I’ll be spending on frocks, flowers and food,’ Joy reminded him gently. ‘As for a honeymoon, surely we don’t need one. We’re not love’s young dream.’

  Robbie took a drag on his cigarette and then puckered his lips and blew out a smoke ring. ‘I know, I know. I’m old enough to be your father,’ he said testily, ‘but I’m not past it.’

  Joy’s heart sank even further. ‘But surely you don’t want children?’

  Robbie stared at her. ‘Children! Hell’s bells, I never thought of that.’

  Well, think of it now, thought Joy, and forget any ideas you might suddenly have of sleeping in my bed, Father Bear.

  He puffed frantically and hurried up the path between straggly frosty grass and bare trees towards the back gate. She kept pace with him, but the thought of having him thrashing about on top of her made her feel quite sick. He unlocked the gate and continued to forge ahead of her. She followed him, past the outhouse at the bottom of the garden and up the garden path.

  Instinctively she glanced towards the neighbouring house and caught sight of old Miss Parker peering over the fence and guessed she was standing on a box. Joy waved to her and immediately Miss Parker bobbed down out of sight.

  Robbie stopped outside the kitchen door and waited for Joy to open up. Only now did she go before him to put on the kettle and make ready a tea tray. He was breathing heavily and bumbled across the room to the rocking chair situated in front of the fire. Neither said a word until the tea was made and both were sitting down with cup in hand. She knew that she had to let him open the conversation. It was obvious that there were things on his mind he was chewing over.

  ‘You might find this embarrassing, Joy,’ he burst out. ‘But I have to ask.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Yes, Mr Bennett. What is it you want to know?’

  ‘Don’t be so formal all of a sudden for God’s sake! We’re getting married, aren’t we?’ He paused, put down his cup and fumbled in a pocket for his cigarette case. ‘This soldier, Chris, whom you were in love with and who was killed in the war…’ He stopped and lit up.

  Joy guessed what he wanted to know but was determined not to make it easy for him because, after all, this wasn’t easy for her either.

  He swore as he burnt his fingers with a match. ‘Damn! Can’t you say something?’

  ‘Do you want me to get some butter to put on that burn?’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ he said, exasperated. ‘I’m not sure about your… your situation. I mean him and you, did you—?’

  ‘What?’ She was not going to say the words for him. No, Robbie, we never slept together. Because she would want to add that it was one of the greatest regrets of her life that she had not done so. A memory to comfort her in the long sleepless nights when she had grieved for him. Tears filled her eyes and a sob burst in her throat.

  ‘Now stop that,’ said Robbie gruffly, placing his cigarette in his saucer. He leant forward and took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I know it can never be the same for you being married to me but I’m sure we can find some happiness together.’

  But not the happiness I yearned for all those years ago wailed Joy inwardly. The tears continued to fall. It was a long time since she had cried. Even when her mother was buried Joy had not wept. When her father had died, she had shed buckets of tears because he had suffered so bravely. She sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

  ‘I’m sorry, Robbie, I’m sure you’re right but please don’t let’s talk about the past.’ She freed her hand and said with a false cheerfulness. ‘Now what would you like for supper?’

  He looked disappointed. ‘If that’s what you’ve decided.’

  ‘Yes. I want to concentrate on the future.’

  Impulsively, Joy planted a kiss on his cheek. He eyed her up and down as if he had something completely different on his mind than food. She had seen such lust in men’s eyes before and could only hope she was not making a mistake in going through with the wedding. Of course, it was not too late to change her mind but she loved this house and did not want to leave it. Stupid to get herself worked up at the thought of sleeping with this man. She was making him out an ogre and he wasn’t. Still, best to think of something else or she would be a nervous wr
eck by the time Easter Monday arrived. She remembered that she must get invitations printed and make time to visit Patsy Doyle.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Patsy, mend this for me,’ said Rose Tanner, breezing into the kitchen. She dropped the cerise georgette dress on the girl’s lap. ‘I caught my heel in the hem and ripped it.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Tanner.’ Patsy stood up with the garment clutched to her. ‘When do you want it and have you any other mending you’d like me to do, madam?’

  Her employer was already on her way out but now she paused. ‘There’s a lovely smell of baking in here. What have you been making now?’

  ‘Cherry scones. There was a recipe in your magazine.’

  Rose fixed her with a stare. ‘You’ve been reading my magazine?’

  ‘You threw it out, madam.’

  ‘That makes no difference. You should have asked me if you could have it. There’s also the matter of your delving into my store cupboard without permission.’

  ‘I’m sorry, madam,’ said Patsy, unrepentant. ‘But the scones are for you and Mr Tanner.’

  Rose shook her head. ‘You really have some nerve, my girl, but I’ve no time to discuss this now. I’ve a green hat upstairs and the bow at the side has come loose – if you could sew it back on. And I’m also almost certain Mr Tanner has been complaining about having a couple of shirts with buttons missing. If you could see to them.’

  ‘Where are these shirts, madam?’

  Mrs Tanner put a hand to her blonde head and pulled a face. ‘Probably he’s flung them in the corner of his room in disgust. He still seems to think that I should sew buttons on. I told him that’s not in my brief these days.’

  ‘What d’yer…you mean by “brief”?’

  ‘Not part of the job. He wormed his way into my heart and tricked me into marriage,’ she said with a dramatic flourish. ‘One gives no quarter to a man like that. See you later!’

  ‘Surely you’re not going out in this weather, madam?’ called Patsy. They’d had rain, hail, snow and gale force winds in the last few days. March had certainly come in like a lion.

  Rose ignored her and vanished through the doorway. Patsy wished she knew what her employer meant by giving no quarter. And how had Mr Tanner tricked his wife into marriage? How could a man do that? When she had lived near Scotty Road, she had sometimes overheard neighbours talking of a bloke being tricked into marriage by a girl getting herself in the family way, but never the other way round.

  She fetched the sewing box and looked for a reel of thread that would exactly match the colour of the frock. Eventually she found one and settled down to repairing the tear. She thought about the lovely clothes belonging to Rose Tanner and wished she had the money to spare to buy even one such frock. It was her birthday on the seventeenth of March and she could easily imagine being led into a tango by Rudolph Valentino, the screen idol, with his Latin good looks, if she was dressed so fine. Not that she was mad about men but she enjoyed imagining that someone good-looking and kind would fancy her one day. But she really did not want any man getting too close to her just yet. Much safer.

  She hummed a dance tune as she set tiny stitches and thought how much she enjoyed having the house to herself. She could pretend it belonged to her and that later in the day she would be welcoming home her brothers and sisters.

  She finished mending Mrs Tanner’s frock and took it upstairs with the sewing box to Rose’s bedroom. It did not take much searching to find the hat that needed a few stitches. Once that was done, she went into Mr Tanner’s room and found three shirts folded neatly on top of a wicker basket. Not wanting to be found in his room if he should arrive home early – which was not unknown these last two months – she took the garments into his wife’s room.

  Patsy settled herself in a basket chair by the window overlooking the garden. She had just finished sewing on the buttons when she heard footsteps on the front step, then a key being inserted in the lock. She recognised Mr Tanner’s footsteps. Hastily, she reached for the scissors and snipped off the thread and, placing the shirts over her arm, hurried from the bedroom. She caught sight of him at the bottom of the stairs.

  He must have seen her at the same time. ‘What are you doing up there, Patsy?’ he called.

  ‘Sewing buttons on your shirts, Mr Tanner.’

  He thanked her and hung his damp overcoat over the newel post.

  ‘Shall I put them in your wardrobe?’ asked Patsy.

  ‘No, I’ll do that,’ he replied, starting up the stairs. ‘I presume my wife is out again despite the weather. What kind of woman is it who can’t stay in and sew buttons on her husband’s shirts and welcome him home?’

  Patsy guessed that he did not really expect her to answer, so she kept quiet. She waited until he reached the landing before handing his shirts to him. He inspected her work and said, ‘You’re a neat stitcher. Now, make me a cup of tea, please.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Tanner,’ said Patsy, pleased at his compliment and the please.

  She was halfway down the stairs when she started feeling suddenly wary of his compliment. Not for the first time she asked herself why he should be nice to a servant girl when he didn’t have to be. In her experience most people wanted something when they were nice to you.

  She set a tea tray, placing a couple of the cherry scones on a plate. She opened the kitchen door and listened for him on the stairs. When eventually she heard him coming downstairs, she made the tea and carried the tray into the drawing room.

  He glanced up from a document he was perusing and then placed it on the sofa beside him. ‘You have brothers, Patsy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Lucky you.’

  Involuntarily she glanced up into his face and saw such pain there that it quite upset her. ‘You have no brothers?’ she asked.

  ‘Not anymore.’ He clenched a fist and banged the arm of the sofa.

  Patsy almost jumped out of her skin. ‘What is it, Mr Tanner? Have I done something to make you angry? Is there something you want?’

  ‘You can’t raise the dead, can you?’ he rasped.

  ‘No!’

  He sighed. ‘Of course not. It was a damn fool question. My brothers were killed in the trenches as you’ve probably guessed. Terribly difficult to accept that I’m the only one alive out of the three of us. I was the youngest and Gerald, my eldest brother, and I were never close. My mother never forgave me for surviving. Gerald was her favourite and was destined to take over the business. I had an altogether different future planned for myself but…’ His voice trailed off.

  Patsy waited in case he had anything more to say but when he just sat there, gazing into space with a vacant expression, she asked, ‘Shall I pour your tea, sir?’

  He appeared to come back from somewhere else. ‘Yes. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Rose’s brother but he’s not answering my letters. Now the last one has been returned not known at this address. It’s so frustrating. I wouldn’t be having this bother if it weren’t for my brothers being killed, and then Rose’s other brother was in the navy and his ship was torpedoed. The ship went down with all hands.’

  ‘I see. It’s sad.’

  With trembling hands Patsy lifted the teapot and somehow managed not to spill any liquid in the saucer. It seemed he was aware of her actions because he reached for the sugar and dropped his customary three lumps into the tea.

  ‘Is there anything else?’ she asked.

  He blinked and touched one of the cherry scones. ‘You baked these?’

  ‘I found a recipe in one of Mrs Tanner’s magazines.’

  ‘So not one of your Miss Kirk’s recipes?’ He smiled faintly.

  She returned his smile. ‘No.’

  ‘Do you ever visit this paragon?’

  Patsy’s brow knit. ‘What’s a paragon?’

  ‘A pattern of perfection.’

  Patsy laughed. ‘I don’t think she’d call herself that but the Bennetts did appreciate her and so did us Doyles.’

&nb
sp; ‘And now Mr Bennett is a widower and she is his housekeeper,’ murmured David.

  Patsy nodded. ‘Her mother moved in after his wife died.’

  ‘You’re telling me that Miss Kirk and Mr Bennett were chaperoned by her mother.’ He took a large gulp of tea and then added, ‘Before you ask me what that means it’s—’

  ‘I know what it means,’ interrupted Patsy. ‘It means that they had company to stop them getting up to something. In my opinion, that was unnecessary because Miss Kirk isn’t like that. She has morals.’

  David said mildly, ‘You really shouldn’t interrupt me when I’m speaking. But you obviously have a great admiration for Miss Kirk.’

  ‘I probably took her for granted when we stayed there but I’ve thought a lot since about how patient she was with us.’ Patsy’s grey eyes were pensive. ‘I didn’t have much of an education. Mam kept me home from school to help look after the younger children, you see.’

  ‘Was your mother infirm?’

  She screwed up her face. ‘You mean crippled, like?’

  ‘Yes, crippled like,’ he responded with a twinkle in his eye.

  ‘No. She drank,’ said Patsy frankly. ‘I don’t know how much that was due to Dad being away so much but she shouldn’t have been spending the little money we had on gin.’ Patsy stopped and shook her head as if trying to get rid of a memory. ‘May I go now?’

  ‘If you have to make dinner, then you better had.’ He reached for the document he had put aside and muttered, ‘Where is that woman?’

  Patsy hurried out. She guessed there would be another argument tonight. What was wrong with Rose Tanner that she went looking for trouble? So they didn’t have kids! That was no excuse to behave the way she did. Kids weren’t all joy.

  Back in the kitchen Patsy got on with her preparations. She was not there long when the back door opened and Mrs Tanner poked her head round the jamb.

  ‘Patsy, please tell me that my husband isn’t home yet?’ she whispered.

  ‘I can’t, he is,’ said Patsy, thinking that Mrs Tanner didn’t look as cold and wet as one would expect, given what the weather was like.