by Kitty Neale
‘Well, I ain’t leaving you here in this state. Bath first, then I’ll think of something else. Come on, out of bed and get this tea down you. I’ll be back in a minute.’
Mo went off to the bathroom, and Sarah grudgingly swung her legs out of bed and walked over to the window. She pulled open the curtain, but quickly drew it again. The sun was bright, but her mood was too dark to face it. She walked over to the armchair and flopped into it. Everything felt like such an effort, and she couldn’t be bothered to fight off her lethargy.
Mo came back into the room. ‘Your bath’s running. It smells gorgeous in there, and them bombs make your skin feel ever so soft. Keep an eye on it, don’t let it overflow. I’ll be back down in an hour and will expect to find you dressed and ready to go.’
Before Sarah could protest, Mo was gone. She liked Mo, but she didn’t want to go out. All she wanted to do was hide away for a while and mourn for her boy. She’d slept with his army jacket in her arms, and now walked back to the bed to pick it up. With it draped around her shoulders, she tucked her hands in the pockets, and smiled warmly as she found a half-eaten sticky boiled sweet, covered in fluff. No doubt Tommy had saved it, and even with the fluff he’d still have shoved it in his mouth.
Overcome with emotion, Sarah dropped to her knees. ‘Tommy … I wish I’d told you more often how much I love you,’ she cried. ‘I miss you. I miss you so much …’
Mo paced back and forth. She could hear Sarah downstairs, crying her eyes out, but couldn’t face going to see her. If Sarah had stayed at George’s house, it would have been so much easier, but now she felt responsible for her and wasn’t happy to be put in that position.
Thankfully the crying at last stopped and she heard the bathroom door close. Sarah was at least having a bath and would hopefully get herself ready. She had to get her out of the house and away from all the memories of Tommy. It had seemed to be a good distraction yesterday, but now Mo decided that the Junction would be too much. Then she had a thought. It was Friday, a good day for a matinee, and Sarah could lose herself in a film for a couple of hours, just as long as the cinema wasn’t screening a tear-jerker.
Mo waited a while, then guardedly went back downstairs, hoping to find Sarah had perked up a bit. Of course, she expected her to be upset, but Mo would have preferred her friend to put on a brave face. She realised she was probably a little heartless, but she was much better at offering a joke and a laugh than she was at sympathy. ‘How are you feeling now?’ Mo asked as she went into Sarah’s room.
‘Better, thanks,’ Sarah said with a sniff, and Mo was pleased to see her friend was dressed and her hair had been tidied up.
‘Good. Do you fancy going to watch a film? It’s a bit early yet, so we could go for a coffee and a bun first. I don’t think it’s healthy for you to sit around in here all day, so what do you think?’
‘I really don’t want to do anything. Given the choice, I’d much rather stay at home,’ Sarah said dolefully.
‘Well, I ain’t giving you a choice, so come on, we’re going out.’
Mo was relieved when Sarah didn’t argue. She followed her outside and half an hour later they were sitting in the corner of a small café on the High Street.
‘Sarah, I’m not expecting you to be full of the joys of spring, and it’s only natural that you’re feeling sad and miserable, but I can’t leave you to rot in that room. I hope you don’t think I’m being a bully or insensitive – I’m just trying to cheer you up a bit.’
Sarah’s eyes glistened as she looked at Mo. ‘I know, and thank you. Left to my own devices, that’s exactly what I would be doing, sitting in my room and crying. To be honest though, Mo, there’s no joy for me here, and there won’t be in the cinema. It’s like nothing matters any more and life seems pointless. It feels like I’m never going to laugh again. The pain inside me is so consuming, and all I can think about is Tommy. It takes over my whole being and I haven’t got the strength to fight it off. And … I’m not sure if I want to. I feel I should be sad like this forever … for Tommy.’
Trust me to open my big gob and start her off again, thought Mo, though she tried to show some empathy in her eyes. ‘Sarah, it’s early days yet. Give it time, love. I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I do know that Tommy wouldn’t want you feeling like this. Just imagine if it was the other way around, and you had died. If you was a ghost and could see him, would you want to see him upset?’
‘No, no, never. I’d want him to be happy and remember me with love.’
‘There you go then. Hold on to that.’
‘Mo, can we just leave it for now? I don’t believe in ghosts. Tommy is dead, he can’t see me, and I can’t help feeling bloody miserable. Look, thanks for dragging me out, but I want to go home now,’ Sarah said. She shoved back her chair and almost ran out of the café.
Mo quickly found some coins in her handbag and threw them on the table. She was cursing herself for saying the wrong thing, and ran to catch up with Sarah. ‘Wait … I’m sorry,’ she called along the street.
Sarah stopped and turned, her shoulders slumped. ‘No, Mo, don’t be sorry. It’s me who should be apologising. You go off and watch the film, and I’ll head home. If it’s all the same with you, I’d rather be by myself for a while.’
‘If that’s what you want,’ she said, inwardly pleased. It suited her that way. When Sarah was happy, she was good company and fun to be around, but Mo was finding her grief difficult to deal with. ‘I’ll pop in to see you later, make sure you’re OK.’
Sarah nodded, and Mo watched as she trudged off. Selfishly she hoped that Sarah would find it too hard to live in that room now, the memories too hard to bear. If Sarah moved out, she wouldn’t have to put up with her crying all the time, something that she now realised could go on for weeks, months or even years.
Sarah knew Mo had good intentions, and though she had tried, she couldn’t force a smile or drive the devastating thoughts of Tommy from her head. As she walked along, she decided to take the long way home. She wanted to go through Battersea Park, a place that held so many precious memories of Tommy and Mr Sayers. They were both gone now, but she would hold their memories in her heart forever.
She wandered around the park, gazing at the trees Tommy had climbed and recalling his squeals of delight. The hills he’d run up and tumbled down, and the pond where they’d fed the geese. Mr Sayers’ allotment had long gone, but now she strolled the paths they’d once walked together, and though her pain was deep, her memories were fond and she never wanted to let go of them. She’d been meandering for a long time when she found herself at the Guinness Clock, one of Tommy’s favourite places. It began to chime five, and the intriguing mechanisms sprang into action. She looked to her side, as if Tommy was next to her, and recalled him trying to guess the sequence of the clock’s movements. First the windmill would spin, then the soldier would pop up … no, it was the other way around. He never did guess it correctly … and, with a sob, Sarah knew that now he never would.
Chapter 41
George had set up his stall, but had spent the rest of the day fretting about Sarah. At least Mo was with her, but he still didn’t like leaving. Roger had stayed out of his way, but as they began to pack away their wares, George knew he had to pass on the message from Sarah. He strolled over to Roger’s stall and picked up an orange, which he threw in the air and caught.
‘Are you going to buy that orange, or are you training for a new circus act?’ Roger asked sarcastically.
At the man’s tone, George felt his temper flare. He remembered what Sarah had said, and fought to calm himself. She wanted them to be friends, but he knew that could never be. Roger had seduced Sarah the moment his back had been turned, but that wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d given her the respect she deserved. He thought about throwing the orange in Roger’s face, but that would probably turn into a fight and the man wasn’t worth the bother. Instead he said calmly, ‘Sarah asked me to tell you that she
’s back home now.’
‘Oh, right, thanks for letting me know.’
He didn’t sound interested, and George frowned. ‘Will you be going to see her?’
‘Er … yeah, I suppose so.’
Alarm bells went off in George’s head. Something didn’t seem right and Roger hadn’t even asked how Sarah was. ‘You suppose so! You’ve made no attempt to see her since Tommy died, and now you suppose you’ll go and see her?’
‘Yeah, well, you and your mum have been looking out for her, but if she’s back home now, I’ll go to see her.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ George asked.
‘Leave off, will ya, George? I’ll call in on my way home, not that it’s got fuck all to do with you.’
George had placed the orange back in the crate, but now his fists clenched. He wanted to launch at Roger and smash his smug face in, but he knew that any more friction between them would only add to Sarah’s grief. Instead he began to walk away, but said, ‘Be good to her. Sarah’s fragile, and it’s Tommy’s funeral on Monday.’
He didn’t wait for Roger to respond, and went back to his stall to pack up. He loved Sarah, and always would. He wished he was going to see her tonight instead of Roger.
Sarah arrived home exhausted from ambling around the park for most of the day, and lay down on Tommy’s bed to rest her aching legs. She felt different, pleased to be home, and, though still heartbroken, she’d taken some pleasure in spending the day reminiscing. The scent of Tommy filled her nostrils and tears flowed again until, exhausted, she fell asleep.
A knock on her door woke her, and when it opened, Roger walked in. ‘Mo let me in the front door,’ he said.
Sarah was surprised to see him and scrambled from the bed, noticing that he had a bunch of flowers in his hands.
‘How are you?’ he asked, handing them to her.
‘Just about coping.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
There was no warmth in his voice and Sarah thought it a strange thing for him to say. Roger was talking to her as if he was a casual acquaintance, not her boyfriend. ‘Thank you for the flowers,’ she said. ‘They’re lovely. I’ll put them in some water.’
Roger followed her to the sink, and when she turned around to look at him, she wanted him to take her in his arms and hold her until all her pain went away. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispered.
‘Come here,’ Roger said, and held out his arms.
Sarah immediately fell into them, her body once again wracked with grief.
‘It’s all right. You have a good cry, my girl,’ Roger said, and stroked the top of her head with one hand while holding her close with the other.
Sarah fought to stifle her tears. Roger would look after her now, and though he couldn’t take away her suffering, she felt some comfort.
He pulled away slightly and cupped her face in his large hands. ‘Look at you, all worked up and blotchy-eyed,’ he said, and kissed her gently on the lips.
Sarah kissed him back, but her nose was blocked and she could hardly breathe. She felt Roger’s tongue in her mouth and all at once she felt the exciting, tingling feelings he always made her experience. He kissed her harder, and her body responded with fevered passion. It felt so good to be loved, and she relished the comfort of being able to forget her grief for a while. When Roger undid her skirt and it dropped to the floor, she didn’t protest. He pressed his body up against hers, and she stumbled backwards until she was leaning against the sink. Roger slipped her top off over her head and lifted her bra to kiss and caress her breasts. He then picked her up in his strong arms and sat her on the edge of the sink. Her legs seemed to naturally part, and Roger stood in between them as he pushed his hard manhood against her. She could feel him fumbling between her legs, and as he kissed her fervently, she felt him pull her knickers to one side. There was a pain as his penis entered her and she fought against him as his hips began to thrust back and forward.
‘Roger … it hurts …’ she said, squirming.
‘It’s all right,’ Roger said, and pushed harder and faster into her.
‘No … Roger … please stop, you’re hurting me …’ Sarah said and could feel her body clenching as she tried to pull away from him.
He was pounding into her now, and she recoiled as he grunted and dug his fingers into her shoulders. That noise, the one she’d heard so many times when her mother had entertained men. She hated it and again pleaded with him to stop, but he threw his head back and shouted in triumph as he reached his climax.
Sarah couldn’t bring herself to look at him as Roger pulled himself away from her. There was something wet in her knickers and she quickly closed her legs. She jumped down from the sink, feeling sick inside.
‘I know it wasn’t much fun for you, Sarah. It was your first time and it always hurts, but it’ll be better for you the next time,’ Roger said as he buttoned up his trouser fly.
Sarah hated what had happened. She’d wanted him at first, his touch had brought her comfort, but then she had come to her senses and begged him to stop. ‘You really hurt me,’ she cried.
‘Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad. You can’t get a bloke going like that and then expect him to stop. Sorry if I got a bit carried away, but that’s the effect you have on me.’
Sarah sniffed. Her mother had warned her to keep her legs shut, and after the pain she’d just experienced, she could understand why.
Roger smiled softly and pulled her into his arms. ‘Forgive me?’
Sarah nodded. Maybe he was right, she should have stopped him before it went that far.
‘I can’t stay. I’ve got an early start in the morning, but how about we go for a drive on Sunday?’ Roger said.
‘I can’t. I’m having dinner with George and Lena.’
‘All right, but do you want me to come to Tommy’s funeral with you on Monday? It means I’d have to shut up my stall for the day and lose a good day’s business, but if you want me with you …’
Sarah got the impression that he didn’t really want to accompany her, and she was deeply hurt. She hid her feelings and said shortly, ‘No, don’t bother. I’ll be fine.’
‘Look, I’m sorry about earlier, but I’ll make it up to you next time. How about I call in on Tuesday?’
‘If you want,’ Sarah answered, but she was feeling hugely disappointed.
As Roger left and the door closed, Sarah collapsed onto her bed and screamed into her pillow. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! Tommy shouldn’t be dead, and Roger shouldn’t have been so callous. He’d acted as if he didn’t care, about her or about Tommy.
Worse, Roger wasn’t going to the funeral. He didn’t seem to realise how much she would need his comfort and support, and now she began to question whether he really loved her. She’d let him brutally take her virginity when all she’d wanted was love and tenderness. ‘What have I done?’ Sarah moaned, and once again cried her heart out as she longed to see her brother just one more time.
Chapter 42
‘It’s a bad state of affairs, Albert. The poor girl is bereft,’ Lena said as she straightened her black hat in her mantel mirror.
‘Has George gone to pick her up?’
‘Yes, we thought it would be better to leave from here. I don’t like the thought of her being on her own after the funeral, so I’m going to suggest that she sleeps here tonight too.’
‘You’re a good woman, Lena. Are you sure I should be coming with you in the car? I’m not family.’
‘Albert, neither are we. The girl hasn’t got any relatives, so we’re the closest thing she has to a family, and yes, I’m sure. Just don’t mention anything about our engagement. I haven’t told George yet, not with all this going on,’ Lena said, and took her ring from her handbag to gaze at the diamond. ‘I can’t wait to wear this, but it’s happened so quickly. I think we should give George some time to get used to us being together.’
‘How do you think he will react?’ Albert asked.
&
nbsp; ‘He’s a good boy, he’ll be fine once he gets over the shock. Blimey, come to that, I think I’m still in shock myself,’ Lena said and laughed.
‘I’ve known for a long time that I wanted you to be my wife, and as it was your birthday yesterday, it seemed like the appropriate time to ask. I’m just glad you said yes as I didn’t have another birthday present to give you if you had said no to the ring.’
Lena looked lovingly at the man sitting on her sofa. He was so different from her deceased husband. She’d never thought she’d be able to love again after losing him, but Albert had shown her it was possible to fall in love more than once in a lifetime, and though she felt a small sense of guilt, she was looking forward to becoming Mrs Bosco. She heard a door slam. ‘That sounds like George’s van,’ she said, and went to look through the front room window. ‘They’re here. Oh, dear, look at Sarah, my heart goes out to her.’
George came in with Sarah behind him, and Albert stood and doffed his hat.
‘Sit down, Sarah,’ urged Lena. ‘We’ve got a little time before the cars arrive. George, pour her a good size brandy, it’ll help to steady her nerves.’
Sarah sat on the sofa in silence. She looked dazed, and her swollen eyes gave away the many tears she’d shed. ‘Oh, God, I’m not sure I can do this,’ she said, her voice breaking.
‘Yes, you can, and you will. This is your chance to say a proper goodbye to Tommy and we’ll all be there to support you.’
‘Here, drink this,’ said George as he handed Sarah the brandy.
Sarah downed it, then pulled a face that showed how horrid it tasted to her.
‘Good girl,’ Lena said. ‘It’ll help you to get through the day. George, pour her another one.’
Sarah didn’t argue and quickly drank the second glass as Lena said, ‘I know it doesn’t seem the right thing to say, but the weather is good. The day I buried your father, George, do you remember? It was chucking it down, bloody awful it was. Tommy was a little ray of sunshine, so it’s appropriate that the sun is out to see him off today.’
