Sunshine and Showers

by June Francis

  ‘You go to bed. It must have been a tiring day for you.’

  She agreed that it had been and wished him goodnight.

  As she made up the bed, she hoped that Greg had truly not minded changing rooms with her. He was another, like Mr Tanner, in that he seemed to accept her for the person she was and not just the domestic. Still, she must not read into Greg’s actions anything other than gratitude for her being here.

  She undressed and turned out the gaslight before opening the curtains and gazing down at the darkened garden with its outhouses. She presumed the one that was not the lavatory was a wash house. She turned away and climbed into bed. As she lay there it gave her a strange feeling, thinking about Greg having slept here. She yawned and was asleep in minutes to dream that he was defending her, from a ghostly figure, with a spear that he had taken from Rodney’s bedroom wall.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was not the rain beating against her bedroom window that caused Patsy to stir on a Sunday morning a month later but the rapturous noise of church bells. She threw back the bedcovers and tumbled out of bed. She washed in cold water and dressed in haste and rushed downstairs. Helen was in the morning room, sitting at the table crunching on grape-nuts smothered in sugar and milk.

  ‘What time is this to be getting up?’ asked the girl.

  ‘Don’t speak with your mouth full,’ said Patsy automatically. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘You should have looked at the grandmother clock. Although, it might have stopped again because Uncle Greg forgets to wind it up because it was always Grandma who did it.’

  ‘Is your grandmother still in bed?’

  ‘Probably. Did you remember to get her salt fish and put it in soak last night?’ asked Helen.

  Patsy nodded. She and the children were used to each other now and relaxed in the other’s company. She went over to the stove and drained the water from the pan in which she had placed the salt fish. Then she filled it with fresh water and put it on the stove. Normally she would have set about clearing out the grates but Greg had been there before her and done the job and lit the fires. It wouldn’t be the first time either, because she had overslept last week after being disturbed in the night by Violet Smith wandering around.

  ‘Have you seen your Uncle Greg this morning?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. He’s gone for a walk with Nelson along the sands.’

  ‘In the rain!’

  ‘He likes the rain.’

  ‘So do I, when I’m dressed for it and it’s not freezing cold.’ Patsy paused. ‘Did he mention whether he’d had breakfast?’

  ‘No, but if he had, then you’d still be able to smell the bacon,’ pointed out Helen.

  Patsy smiled. ‘You’re right. I’d best get everything ready for when he comes back. He’s bound to be starving after all that exercise.’

  ‘I think they’re both daft.’

  Diplomatically Patsy remained silent but she agreed, although she was getting used to Greg’s liking for exercise in the fresh air. Sometimes he ran along the front and at other times he and Nelson took a ball out and had a kick around. She and Greg were also getting used to living under the same roof, although they spent little time on their own. She respected him for the way he coped with the children. He seldom raised his voice to them, and if he did need to issue warnings about their behaviour and threaten punishment, he stuck to what he said. As for the old woman, he must get exasperated with her at times, but he did not lose his temper with her either, or persist in correcting her which would only have resulted in her getting even more muddled.

  As soon as the salt fish was cooked, Patsy put it on a plate with a knob of butter and a couple of slices of bread. Then, having made a pot of tea, she put all on a tray and carried it upstairs. She knocked on the door and a quavering voice told her to come in. She went inside and noticed that the curtains were open and the old woman was sitting up in bed, looking at what appeared to be a map with a magnifying glass.

  ‘Breakfast,’ called Patsy in a cheerful voice.

  The old woman did not immediately look up but continued to move her finger along the map as she peered through the glass. Then she stopped and made a mark on it. ‘I can smell salt fish,’ she said, looking up at Patsy. ‘Is it Sunday?’

  ‘Yes. It’s not a very nice day.’

  ‘No. But it’s warm in bed.’

  Patsy agreed, placing the tray on the bedside table. ‘That’s a really pretty bed jacket you’re wearing.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The old woman smiled and stroked a pink satin sleeve. ‘It was a present from an admirer. My sister wants it but I said she couldn’t have it because it was specially made for me.’

  ‘Some people are really clever. My sister’s good with her needle. She works in a clothes shop in Chester.’

  ‘Chester? Where’s that?’

  ‘The other side of the Mersey close to the River Dee.’

  ‘Rodney’s ship sailed up the Mersey. When did we last see him?’ She looked bewildered.

  Patsy removed the map and the magnifying glass and placed the tray on the old woman’s lap. ‘It must have been a while ago. Is there anything more you want me to do for you?’

  ‘No. Here’s my Rodney,’ said Mrs Smith, pointing out a photograph on the bedside cupboard the other side of the bed. ‘He’s a good-looking lad, isn’t he?’

  Patsy glanced at a photograph and agreed that Rodney was as handsome as his mother believed him to be. In reality she considered him no Adonis but he had a cheeky smile. She was on her way out of the room when Mrs Smith said, ‘Is your bed comfortable? Do you get a good night’s sleep?’

  ‘As long as there are no bumps in the night.’

  ‘I’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘So you’ve told me but I’ve yet to see it myself,’ said Patsy.

  ‘Well, they don’t talk to everyone.’

  Patsy agreed and left her to eat her breakfast.

  When she reached the kitchen she found Greg and Nelson hanging their mackintoshes on the backs of chairs in front of the fire.

  ‘You’re both soaked,’ she said, dismayed. ‘I hope you don’t catch your deaths.’ She fussed around them, taking their caps and placing them on the top of the fireguard. ‘What made you go out in such weather? Go and change your clothes while I make your breakfast.’

  ‘Yes, miss,’ said Greg, grinning. ‘I’ll tell you why we went out. There was a ship I wanted Nelson to see heading for the bar. It was the first one I ever worked on and I haven’t seen her since she was launched.’

  Patsy said, ‘Did you ever go to sea?’

  ‘Only the once and I was seasick. But even the best sailors can suffer from seasickness. Admiral Nelson did, but I decided that me and the sea weren’t compatible.’ Greg rubbed his cold hands together and turned to Nelson. ‘Come on, kid, let’s go upstairs and get out of these wet clothes.’

  Nelson said gloomily, ‘I wouldn’t have minded getting wet if we’d seen the ship properly but it just loomed out of the mist for hardly any time at all and then vanished, just like the Marie Celeste.’ On those words he walked out of the kitchen.

  ‘Unfortunately that’s true,’ said Greg ruefully. ‘It would have made a good scene in a film. You all right there?’

  She nodded. ‘You’re going to have to decide what you want us to eat for Christmas and put in an order.’

  Greg looked relieved. ‘Am I right in assuming that by asking me that question you’re planning on staying for Christmas? You’ve been here just over a month. Is that a long enough trial to have made up your mind you can put up with us?’

  Patsy smiled. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Great.’ He winked at her before following Nelson out of the room.

  Patsy hummed to herself as she got on with cooking his breakfast. Despite the problems that she felt were bound to arise in the future with a confused old woman, two orphaned children and being attracted to the only man in the house, all felt right with her world. When she had the chance she
would pen some Christmas letters to Joy, Kathleen, Jimmy and the twins, as well as Tilly. She felt certain that all would be interested to know how she was getting on in her new job.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Joy stretched out her legs towards the blazing fire and sighed with contentment. Since the miners had all gone back to work, coal was now plentiful and the cost of a hundredweight had slumped to only tuppence more than it had been in April.

  Wendy lifted her eyes from the newspaper and smiled across at her. ‘D’you want to hear the latest on the missing novelist, Mrs Christie?’

  ‘Yes, go on,’ said Joy, closing her eyes. ‘It’ll be something else to write about in my next letter to Tilly.’

  ‘They have an aeroplane out looking for her as well as hounds searching on the ground.’

  ‘Perhaps I’ll wait until they find her before writing to Tilly.’ Joy struggled to sit up straight but her bulk made it difficult as the baby was due in four weeks’ time.

  Wendy glanced at her. ‘You’re not worrying about Mr Tanner, are you? We don’t even know if he’s set sail for America yet. He could still be in France. Miserable weather for it if he’s visiting the battlefields right now.’

  ‘I gave him Tilly and Don’s address in New York,’ said Joy. ‘If he does get in touch with them, Tilly is bound to write and let me know what she thinks of him and how they got on. By the way, I had a Christmas card and letter from Patsy. It’s nice that cards have come back into fashion again.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘She can cope with the work and the children in her new job but by the sound of it the old woman is likely to get worse. Patsy will be spending Christmas there.’

  ‘So she won’t be seeing the twins and Jimmy?’

  ‘Probably not but Christmas, generally, is a bit special in the Seamen’s Orphanage with treats provided by the Friends and I don’t doubt they’ll put on some kind of entertainment. A pantomime perhaps.’

  ‘So will you be going over to Chester?’ asked Wendy.

  ‘No. Too close to my confinement. I thought I’d ask Miss Parker next door to come and eat with us.’ She cocked an eye at Wendy. ‘Of course, you, Grant and Elspeth might have other ideas. You might want to spend the day with your family.’

  ‘You’re my family as well,’ said Wendy, smiling at her. ‘And I don’t think you should be standing over a hot stove on Christmas Day but let someone else do the cooking. I think it will be easier for our family to cope with our first Christmas without Uncle Robbie if we’re all together.’

  Joy was not sure about that but she did not want to upset Wendy by saying so. She would have preferred a quiet Christmas without Rita ready to pick her up on anything she might say that she considered out of place.

  As it turned out Elspeth had other plans for Christmas and surprisingly they involved Rita. ‘We Scots don’t make as much fuss about Christmas as you Sassenachs do,’ Grant’s sister told Joy. ‘But I have been asked to go and stay with my cousins up in Scotland for a holiday and they suggested I bring a friend. I know Grant and Wendy don’t want to leave you alone, so I’ve asked Rita if she’d like to go with me. She’s agreed, saying she would have found Christmas and New Year upsetting with her brother not being here.’ She paused to wipe an eye. ‘Besides, she said it’s time her children took some of the load off her shoulders and looked after the shop for a few days while she has a break.’

  Joy was delighted with the arrangement and looked forward to a reasonably quiet Christmas. As for Miss Parker next door, when Joy went round to see her, she closed the door in Joy’s face and mumbled something indistinct. Joy could only presume she was going a bit senile and told herself that she must keep a closer eye on her.

  Christmas Day passed pleasantly enough, although there were moments when tears threatened. Particularly when Peter played the piano as Robbie had done the Christmas before and they sang carols. Joy was glad when the day was over.

  Two weeks’ later her waters broke and she was delivered of a boy after five hours of intense labour. When she held her tiny son in her arms she knew that the pain and discomfort had all been worth it. She felt extremely emotional and wept that her baby would never know his father or grandparents.

  When Wendy saw him for the first time her face softened. ‘I want one of those. He’s so perfect and has lovely thick hair just like Uncle Robbie.’

  ‘Except it’s black,’ said Joy, wrapping a lock of her son’s hair around her finger.

  ‘Well, Mam will tell you that Uncle Robbie didn’t always have silver hair.’ Wendy smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed. ‘What are you going to call him?’

  ‘Robert, of course,’ said Joy.

  Tears glistened in Wendy’s eyes and she leant forward and kissed Joy’s cheek. ‘Mam will be so glad. Is there anything you need before I go and tell her the good news?’

  ‘I think I’ll just lie here and savour the fact that I’m still alive, and so is my baby, and I can plan his christening,’ said Joy.

  Wendy gave her another hug. ‘Prepare to be spoilt. I’ve telephoned Grant at the office and he says that he’ll be home early.’

  ‘Good.’ Joy smiled. ‘Be a love and telephone Hanny for me. As soon as I’m up and about, I’ll make time to write to everyone and tell them the good news and invite them to the christening.’

  ‘Who are you going to have for godparents?’ asked Wendy.

  ‘You and Grant and Hanny and Freddie,’ said Joy positively. ‘I know Rita will probably think I should ask her to be a godmother but I want Robert to have young godparents if anything should happen to me.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that,’ said Wendy swiftly. ‘You’ll live to be a hundred.’

  ‘Gosh, that is ancient,’ responded Joy, laughing. ‘Now go and do what I asked, there’s a love.’

  Wendy danced out of the bedroom, singing ‘Rock a Bye Baby on the Tree Tops’. Joy lay back with her child in her arms and rubbed her chin gently on her son’s head and thanked God all over again for a safe delivery.

  The christening was arranged for the first Sunday in February after Joy had been churched and, to her relief, Rita, who had called in to see her nephew when he was only a few hours old, did not have a face as miserable as a wet Whit Sunday as Joy had feared. She bought Robert a lovely layette in blue and white and placed a half-crown in his hand. Joy thanked her, and, shortly after, the pair of them took the boy to visit Robbie’s grave in Anfield Cemetery and placed flowers there. The christening had been a family affair but Joy did not forget to write and let people know that Robbie’s son had made his appearance and was the spitting image of his father.

  * * *

  ‘Mrs Bennett’s had her baby!’ Patsy’s grey eyes shone as she looked up from the letter that had arrived ten minutes ago.

  ‘Who is Mrs Bennett?’ asked Violet from her position in front of the fire.

  ‘A lovely woman. Mr Tanner has met her. He called her a paragon,’ said Patsy, forgetting that the old woman would have problems making sense of all this information.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Violet stared into the fire. ‘Where’s Rodney?’

  Patsy chose to ignore that question. Instead she read Joy’s letter again. The baby was six weeks old now and had been christened last week. Robert was a bonny baby and extremely good-tempered. Patsy decided that she must visit Joy. She would buy the baby a present but first she would need to arrange her half day off when someone could keep their eye on Violet. Patsy preferred a weekday when the shops were open in town but that would mean asking one of the neighbours. If no one was willing, then it would have to be a Sunday when Greg would be off work. She was reluctant to do that because she thought he deserved to have a proper day off rather than having full responsibility for the old woman and the children.

  Fortunately their next-door neighbour agreed to keep Violet company and all Patsy had to do was to square it with Greg.

  ‘That’s fine by me,’ he said. ‘Will you be
back in time for the children getting in from school?’

  Patsy nodded. ‘I’ll make sure I am. If I set out about ten as I’ve agreed with next door, then I should have plenty of time to get into Liverpool, go round the shops and pay Joy a visit. It’s just a pity I missed the sales last month but I might still treat myself to something with some of Mr Tanner’s money.’

  Greg smiled. ‘You enjoy yourself, kid. You need some time to yourself. I’m grateful for the free time you’ve given me by coming to work here.’ He kissed her cheek and left the house.

  Patsy placed the back of her hand to the spot his lips had touched and sighed, feeling all warm inside. Then she told herself sternly that it was not much of a kiss and she’d be best forgetting it.

  She thought about Christmas and that she should really have found time to see Jimmy and the twins. She had received handmade Christmas cards from them which had pleased her. She had also received a parcel from Kathy containing a pair of cotton camiknickers trimmed with pink ribbon and lace. Patsy had immediately put them away in a bottom drawer, considering that they were far too light and pretty to wear for winter everyday wear. There had been a postcard from her brother, Mick. It had come all the way from Cape Town and reassured her to his wellbeing. He was enjoying life at sea and seeing different parts of the world. But now she needed to think about what she should buy for baby Robert. She was really looking forward to seeing Joy and wondered if she had heard from Mr Tanner.

  * * *

  Joy looked up at the sky as she pegged out nappies and hoped that the rain would hold off. There was a nice breeze so with a bit of luck the washing should dry in a couple of hours. As she walked up the garden with the empty basket on her hip, she paused to gaze down at Robert in his pram. She could only catch a glimpse of the tip of his tiny nose and the sweep of his dark eyelashes on his cheeks because he was swathed in blankets. Her heart swelled with love. Never had she thought when she had decided that she did not want a child that, one day, her own son would wrap himself round her heart so completely. It was frightening. How would she bear it if she were ever to lose him?