by Molly Green
Too late? What is he talking about? An ice-cold sensation took hold of her. She let go her mother’s hand and stood up, her limbs trembling.
‘Please tell me quickly …’
‘There was nothing anyone could do,’ the officer said. ‘The hospital rang and told us it was a brain haemorrhage. The only comfort I can give you is that he wouldn’t have known anything about it.’
‘How do you know that?’ Raine flared. God, why hadn’t they sent someone older – someone more experienced.
‘Well, I don’t exactly …’ he faltered, ‘but—’
‘Then I would prefer you keep those opinions to yourself.’
Raine’s voice was harsh, but tears suddenly welled. She had no right to be so rude to PC Riley. It wasn’t his fault and she knew it wasn’t right to blame him.
‘I apologise, officer,’ Raine said with a tremor. ‘It must be the shock.’
‘Quite understandable in the circumstances.’ PC Riley looked relieved. ‘Maybe a cup of tea for your mother …’
‘Of course,’ Raine said. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ She paused. ‘Will you stay for a cup?’
Please say no.
‘No, thank you,’ he answered. ‘I’d best be getting along. I’m on duty shortly.’
She nodded and went with him to the door.
‘I’m sorry for your sad loss …’ he began.
‘Thank you, officer. I appreciate you taking the time to come and tell us.’
Her own voice sounded far away. As though another person was speaking. She was parroting the words but had no idea if they were appropriate. A light-headed feeling took over. Her father’s smile, his warmth, his love for her. All gone …
She swallowed hard to try to remove the lump in her throat, but it stuck there like a piece of concrete. All she wanted was for the policeman to disappear so she could be alone to think what had happened. To try to take it in. But she couldn’t. She had to get back to Maman.
‘Lorraine, where are you?’ her mother’s voice called from the front room, stronger now.
‘Making you tea, Maman. I’ll be there in a minute.’
‘I don’t want tea.’ There came the sound of sobbing.
Raine put the lid on the teapot, her mind whirling with the news. Dad was no longer here. He’d never walk through the door again – smiling as he always did when he was home with his family. Asking how his gorgeous girls were but always going to Maman first. Raine drew in a shaky breath. She’d never be able to talk to him, share a joke, ask his advice. He was the one who usually stuck up for her and occasionally was able to persuade Maman to see her side. She gritted her teeth. She mustn’t cry. Later, maybe, but for now she had to be strong for her sisters and Maman. She was the eldest, after all. But she worried for Maman who relied on Dad too much. Her mother would be so vulnerable. They would all have to help her.
Hurriedly pouring herself a cup of tea, she gasped as some of the scalding liquid splashed onto the back of her hand. She held it under the cold tap for a few seconds until the worst of the sting subsided, when she heard her mother call out to her again. Squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment, Raine took her tea into the front room.
‘I didn’t know where you were,’ her mother said, tears pouring down her already swollen face. ‘Oh, is that for me?’ She stretched out her arm to take the cup of tea. ‘Thank you, chérie.’
Raine put it in her hand then turned to go back to the kitchen.
‘Where are you going?’ her mother sobbed, childlike.
‘Getting myself a cup of tea. I asked if you wanted one and you said no, so I gave you mine just now.’
‘I don’t know what I am saying or not saying.’ Simone set the cup and saucer down on a small table and held her face in her hands. She began to cry again.
Raine went over to her and put her arm round her. ‘Maman, you’ve … we’ve both had a terrible shock. I can’t take it in and I don’t suppose you can either.’ She paused, aware of the back of her hand stinging from the burn. ‘Did you know he had anything wrong with him?’
‘If he did, he did not tell me.’ Simone sniffed and bent for her handbag close to her feet. She found a handkerchief and blew her nose, then looked up at Raine with an imploring expression. ‘What am I going to do without your father?’
‘Survive,’ Raine answered crisply. ‘As Suzanne and Ronnie and I will have to.’
Maman’s expression changed to resignation. ‘You will, Lorraine. And so will Véronique. But I think not so much Suzanne. She is very sensitive.’
Raine was about to say something about helping one another when she heard the front door open. Seconds later Ronnie burst into the sitting room.
‘I’m home. Is Suzy here yet?’
‘Not yet,’ Raine said quietly.
Her youngest sister looked at her. ‘My, you do look serious.’ She flopped into a chair near her mother and looked at her for the first time. ‘Maman! You’ve been crying. What on earth’s the matter?’
‘Your father’s d-d-dead.’ Simone began to weep uncontrollably.
‘What?’ Ronnie swung her head round to stare at her sister. ‘Raine, what’s Maman talking about?’
‘I’m afraid it’s true, darling,’ Raine said, sitting next to her. ‘A policeman came round half an hour ago. Dad had a brain haemorrhage at work and by the time the ambulance got him to hospital he was …’ Her voice shook and she swallowed hard. ‘He was already dead.’
‘Oh, no.’ Ronnie gave her a horrified stare. ‘It can’t be true. I said goodbye to him this morning. He was all right then.’
‘These things can sometimes happen completely out of the blue.’ Raine watched her mother who was whimpering and mumbling to herself.
‘What are we going to do?’ Ronnie’s voice was choked with tears.
‘First of all, we need to tell Suzy,’ Raine said. ‘And then we’ll have to have a family gathering.’
Raine stopped herself before she mentioned her father’s will. She knew it wasn’t really the time to be thinking such things, but she prayed her father had paid off all his debts.
Chapter Sixteen
They waited an hour for Suzanne to return from her rehearsal, but Simone had been so emotionally exhausted that Raine had sent her upstairs to go and lie down. Shortly afterwards, Suzanne arrived home.
‘Where’s Maman?’ was her first question.
‘Suzy, Maman’s having a rest,’ Raine said. ‘Come into the sitting room. We need to talk.’
‘I’ll just put my violin away.’
‘Please,’ Raine said evenly. ‘Just come and sit down now. You, too, Ronnie.’
Although there was less than two years between them, Suzanne always seemed much younger to Raine. It was probably because she was so immersed in her music that she had little time for meeting people and having much adult conversation outside her world of classical music. Raine sighed. It wasn’t always easy being the eldest, but she’d had plenty of practice. Her mother had always leaned on Dad for emotional support as well as anything to do with finance. That had obviously been a big mistake. Momentarily, she closed her eyes, dreading how her mother would cope.
Swiftly she told Suzanne what had happened to their father. Her sister kept her eyes fixed on Raine’s face.
‘You do understand that Dad’s never coming back, don’t you, Suzy?’
At this, Ronnie leapt up. ‘I’m going to my room. I can’t stand anymore.’ They heard her footsteps pounding up the stairs and a door slam, then a terrible sobbing.
Suzanne made to go after her but Raine held up her hand. ‘Let her be, Suzy. She has to deal with this in her own way.’
‘Poor Ronnie,’ Suzanne said, sinking back into the chair, tears beginning to fall silently down her cheeks. ‘She’s always felt she’s been a disappointment to Maman because she’s not as clever as you.’
‘Or musical, like you,’ Raine added. ‘But she shouldn’t worry. She’s much kinder than I am. Much more thoughtful.’
>
‘That’s not true,’ Suzanne said softly. ‘You just have a different way of showing it, that’s all.’
‘No, Ronnie’s different. The way she’s so tuned in to animals and birds. Her love of nature. Maman has never understood her – but Dad did, and she knew it. His death is a real blow to all of us, because he never had a favourite. He treated all of us as if we were his favourite. He loved us all equally and was such a good father—’ She broke off, tears blurring her vision. ‘He did come unstuck with losing his money, so let’s hope Maman has enough of her own so we don’t have to move again.’
Suzanne wiped her tears with the back of her hand, just like she did when she was a little girl, Raine thought.
‘Do you think we will?’ her sister said.
‘I hope not. I just don’t know what we’re going to do about Maman.’ Raine sighed. ‘She’s going to be lost.’
‘But I will not be lost – I have my daughters near me.’
The two girls swung round towards the door, Raine wondering how much of the conversation their mother had heard. She stood in the doorway in her pink négligée, smiling through her tears, then floated into the sitting room, her arms extended.
‘My darling girls. My three wonderful daughters.’ She glanced round. ‘Where is Véronique?’
‘In her room,’ Raine said. ‘She’s very upset and wanted some time to herself.’
Her mother nodded. ‘I know you girls will never let me down – never leave me to cope alone. I am so lucky to have you all. I would be lost without you.’ She let out a deep sigh. ‘Will you call Véronique to come down, Lorraine? I need all of you here.’ She sat down on her special armchair and looked directly at Raine.
Raine’s stomach turned, making her feel suddenly nauseous. Her mother’s insinuation was frightening. Did she really think she and her sisters were never going to leave her side? There’s a war on, for God’s sake, Maman, she wanted to shout. Then her heart practically stopped. Would her mother really make her feel guilty enough to persuade her to leave the ATA? Raine gritted her teeth. Maybe she was reading too much into Maman’s words. Her mother was in shock. She didn’t know what she was saying. Yes, that was it. Maman wasn’t thinking straight. It was too soon, too much to take in. They’d talk about it tomorrow.
‘Maman, we all need to eat before we have any family discussion,’ she said.
Her mother opened her mouth and then closed it again.
‘Let’s give Ronnie some time for the shock to settle. And in the meanwhile I’ll go and see what I can find for us in the kitchen,’ Raine said as she slipped out of the room.
She opened the pantry door. There was a basket of potatoes, the earth still clinging to them. Dad must have dug them up only this morning for lunch. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip so hard she tasted the metallic taste of blood. She mustn’t break down. She had to be strong in front of her mother and sisters. She looked along the slate shelves, depressed to see they were almost empty. Maman’s organisational abilities were sadly lacking in the food department.
There were a couple of large brown eggs on a saucer, but that wouldn’t go far enough to make an omelette for four. Well, she’d have to bulk it up by adding milk and do scrambled eggs on toast.
She was glad to be busy. Dad wouldn’t have wanted her to break down. He always told her and her sisters how proud he was of his three daughters. How resilient they all were and must continue to be now the country was at war. He’d said more than once that he wished he was young enough to join up himself.
‘You did your bit in the last war,’ Raine once told him, ‘so you don’t need to feel any regrets.’
He’d been an army captain but was too old to fight this time round. Nevertheless, he’d volunteered to be on a night-duty rota as an ARP warden.
‘I can’t sit and do nothing, leaving it to others,’ he’d said at the supper table when his wife had admonished him.
Remembering this conversation, Raine’s eyes blurred as she unthinkingly stirred the egg mixture in the saucepan. Dad. She’d never be able to give him a hug and a kiss – tell him she loved him. When was the last time she’d told him that? She shook her head to no one. She couldn’t remember.
Dear God, what’s burning? She glanced down at the saucepan in dismay as smoke hit her nostrils. She snatched the saucepan off the hob, but it was too late. The eggs had been cremated. Furious with herself, and furious with her father for leaving them, her head began to swim. She stumbled over to one of the kitchen chairs and put her head in her hands, desperate to comfort herself. Her shoulders shook. But she didn’t cry.
Raine had had to resort to making cheese on toast and Simone pushed it around her plate, taking two or three dainty bites before putting down her knife and fork together in the English way.
It wasn’t an easy supper.
‘I feel I am choking,’ Simone said. ‘And what is the point to eat when I have no hunger?’
‘To keep your strength up,’ Raine answered. ‘We all have to.’
‘I would prefer scrambled egg than this cheese I can barely taste,’ Simone said petulantly. ‘There are two eggs in the pantry. I will have those.’
‘I’m afraid I burnt them,’ Raine said.
Her mother looked at her in horror. ‘You may not realise, but we do not have all the rations here that you are lucky to enjoy at your airfield,’ she said, a sharp edge to her tone.
‘I’m sorry, Maman, I wasn’t concentrating. I was thinking about Dad.’
‘Dad loves … loved,’ Suzanne hurriedly corrected herself, ‘cheese on toast. He—’
‘I am not ready to discuss him this evening,’ Simone said, dabbing her mouth bearing no traces of the morsels of food she’d eaten. ‘I shall retire to bed. When you are ready you may come up and say goodnight.’
She rose and made her way slowly from the room, looking to Raine as if Maman had aged ten years since this morning.
‘He was her rock,’ Suzanne said after the door closed.
‘He was a rock for us all,’ Ronnie added. ‘I’m going to miss him so much.’
‘I know Dad’s only been gone a few hours,’ Raine began, her voice sounding unreal to her ears, ‘but I think we need some kind of family meeting – maybe one without and one with Maman. Just to voice our opinion on where we go from here.’ She looked at each sister in turn. ‘As the eldest, I’d better have my say first.’
Suzanne and Ronnie nodded their agreement.
‘This is how I see it,’ Raine started. ‘We’ve lost Dad and I think we’re going to find it very difficult to handle Maman. We always came after Dad in her affections. He was her one and only love. She’ll go through all sorts of emotions – feel lonely and angry – and maybe even pretend it didn’t happen. Do you remember how she was when Hitler invaded her beloved Paris? It nearly killed her. First she denied it and then she went into that awful depression. And she’s likely to slip into another one if we’re not careful.
‘If you remember, that’s the time when she became so dependent. First on Dad, of course, though he never seemed to mind. But now he’s gone she’ll look to us. So we have to think how to explain to her we’re not going to be at her beck and call when there’s nothing physically wrong with her.’
‘She wouldn’t expect us to give up our lives,’ Ronnie said.
Raine sent her a pitying look. ‘Maman actually said she won’t be lost because she has us by her side. The meaning was clear. By her side at all times.’ She heard Ronnie give a gasp of dismay. ‘But all of us – and that includes Maman – have to get on with our lives. I love my job – flying’s in my bones – and I believe I’m doing something useful and fairly important in this awful war, so I don’t intend to devote my life to Maman. We have to be cruel to be kind. She has a strength she doesn’t even know she’s got because everyone runs around after her all the time.’
‘Did she really say that?’ Ronnie questioned. ‘About us being by her side at all times?’
‘
Yes, that was the insinuation when you’d rushed upstairs. And if we kow-tow to her we’ll be trapped.’
‘Well, I’m not cut out for domestic stuff,’ Ronnie stated firmly. ‘I can see Suzy doing that, not me. And I’m sure Maman will appreciate it as Suzy’s her favourite.’
‘Of course I’m not,’ Suzanne protested. ‘She loves us all the same.’
‘No,’ Raine said. ‘It’s always been you, Suzy, our musical prodigy. But you’re lucky – Ronnie and I happen to love you, too, so we don’t get upset.’
‘You’re making me feel awful. I’m sure it’s not true.’
Raine stroked her sister’s blonde head. ‘Don’t be, and it is.’ She smiled. ‘And to make up for it, we both want tickets to your next concert. When will it be?’
‘It’s scheduled for November,’ Suzanne said. ‘You know how hard we’re rehearsing?’ She looked at her two sisters as if waiting for their affirmation. ‘Well, they’ve actually offered me a solo in one of Brahms’ sonatas. And the reason they gave it to me was because I’m the only one who’s memorised it.’ She paused. ‘Though I don’t know what my playing will be like now Dad’s—’ She broke off and took a handkerchief from her cardigan pocket.
‘It sounds wonderful, Suzy. I just hope I’ll manage to get there.’ Raine turned to her youngest sister. ‘Ronnie? What do you have to say about Maman?’
Ronnie pouted. ‘She won’t want to be cared for by me.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Suzanne said.
‘Because I don’t have nursing skills. Mother would hate it. And I’d hate it. I’d rather be in a factory any day, and that’s saying something. No, it will have to be you or Raine.’ She looked at her sisters with glistening eyes. ‘And delivering planes to fighter pilots is probably more important than playing them a nice tune.’
‘You don’t understand, Ronnie. Music’s just as important for the soul and—’
‘Why don’t we wait until Maman feels a little better before we make any decision?’ Raine cut in. ‘We may be worrying for nothing. She may see sense and give us her blessing.’
But she knew her mother would never give in that easily.
