A Sister's Sorrow

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Well said,’ Albert commented.

  ‘Thanks, George. I think the brandy has helped to dull the pain,’ Sarah croaked.

  ‘That’s good. I’m glad.’

  ‘Sarah, love,’ said Lena. ‘I know you’re hurting, and you will for some time yet, but this time next year, things will seem a little better.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to stay positive for Tommy but it’s so difficult. I keep thinking of all the bereaved mothers who come in the shop. They buried their sons and husbands during the war, but the way they’ve got on with their lives is an inspiration to me, and so are you, Lena.’

  ‘That’s the spirit, love, every time it hurts, let it hurt. Let it hurt ’til you can’t cry no more. That pain will never go away, but in time you’ll find yourself going for longer and longer periods of just living and doing day-to-day stuff.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been told that time heals, but it doesn’t feel like it at the moment,’ Sarah said sadly.

  ‘One day you’ll find you can put a sticky plaster over the wound, but there are times when it will still weep. When the plaster falls off, you’ll feel the pain again, but yes, with time it will become easier,’ Lena said. She saw George discreetly wipe a tear from his eye, and Albert bowed his head. As for Sarah, Lena was impressed at how brave the girl was being. She knew it wouldn’t last though. When the hearse arrived and she saw the coffin, she was bound to break down. Lena remembered how difficult it had been for her to walk out of the house when the hearse was waiting outside with her husband in it. She was sure that’s when it would hit Sarah, and when it did, they’d all just have to be there for her and hold her up if she threatened to fall.

  The hearse pulled up outside. George had struggled to get Sarah out of the door, but she’d eventually relented. One look at the small white coffin though, and her legs went from under her. It was agonising to see, but they managed to get her into the car, where they followed Tommy on his final journey. As though her emotions were frozen, Sarah sat woodenly, staring ahead, while Lena quietly dabbed her eyes.

  When they pulled up to the church, George was surprised to see how many people were waiting to pay their final respects. As he’d expected, there was no sign of Roger. He was disgusted that the man wasn’t there to support Sarah.

  As George led Sarah towards the chapel, Mo and Samuel stepped forward, but Sarah hardly seemed to notice that they were there. She wasn’t crying, but she looked so lost, so bereft, her face as white as a sheet.

  ‘How’s she been?’ Mo whispered.

  ‘Not good,’ George answered.

  ‘It’s a lovely turnout, Sarah,’ Mo said. ‘Lots of mums from Tommy’s school are here, and so is his teacher. I’ve met your friend Jenny too, she’s really nice.’

  Sarah didn’t respond. She was locked in a world of grief, and moved stiffly. The vicar stood by the entrance to the church, and took Sarah’s hand, but she remained silent.

  George led her inside to a front pew, and after a few minutes the organ began to play. George glanced behind to see that everyone was seated, and then the vicar walked down the aisle in front of the bearers carrying Tommy’s tiny coffin. It was placed on a plinth, while Sarah stared ahead, and he wondered how much longer she could hold it together.

  The service began; they sang hymns, said prayers and Lena did well with the reading. George could tell she was nervous, but the things she said about Tommy were very moving, and he could hear quiet snuffles echoing through the church. Still, Sarah remained silent. She had opted to have Tommy cremated, saying that she couldn’t stand the thought of him being buried underground, all alone in the dark.

  To the sound of the final hymn, a curtain was drawn across the plinth, hiding the coffin, and George felt a surge of sorrow. He swallowed the lump in his throat, fighting tears, and in his head said a final goodbye to the bright, bonny boy he had become so fond of. He reached for Sarah’s hand and found it cold. She still sat stiffly beside him.

  The service over, people filed out and George gently urged Sarah to her feet. Outside, condolences were offered, and then he led Sarah to where the flowers and wreaths had been placed. She barely looked at them, but George saw his mother collecting the cards. In time, maybe Sarah would want to read them, he thought. For now, she was tapping her finger and thumb together, something he’d noticed she did whenever she was upset or worried.

  ‘I am so sorry, love,’ a young woman said.

  At last Sarah spoke, but only to say curtly, ‘Thanks, Jenny.’

  ‘Sarah, I wanted to let you know that I’ve got another job. I’ll still be an apprentice seamstress, but the pay is much better and it’s in a fashion house on the other side of London. My mum’s sister lives in the area, so rather than forking out the fare to travel back and forth each day, I’m moving in with her.’

  Sarah just nodded, and George wasn’t sure that she took any of this in. He was worried about her state of mind and said, ‘Come on, Sarah, let’s get you home.’

  ‘Bye, Sarah,’ said Jenny.

  There was no response again, and with unshed tears in her eyes Jenny walked away. George called out to his mother and Albert and all of them returned to the car. It was a silent journey home, his mother as quiet as Sarah. There wasn’t going to be a wake; Sarah hadn’t wanted one, saying that she couldn’t bear to prolong the day. He knew his mother didn’t approve. She felt that everyone who came to the church should be asked back to the house, and at least offered a sandwich or something. However, she hadn’t interfered, but instead had done all she could to support Sarah, and George knew she’d continue to do so for as long as Sarah needed her.

  When they arrived home, George drew his mother to one side and said, ‘Mum, I’m worried. Sarah’s behaviour doesn’t seem normal.’

  ‘I know, love. There was hardly a dry eye in the church, but Sarah hasn’t shed a tear. Maybe it’s some kind of coping mechanism, but if she doesn’t snap out of it, we may have to call the doctor. You go and sit with her while I make a pot of tea. I don’t know about you, but I’m parched.’

  Albert stayed in the kitchen, while George went to sit beside Sarah in the front room. In an attempt to break through her wall of silence, he reached out to take her hand and said, ‘It was a lovely turnout for Tommy,’ but once again she didn’t respond, her hand limp in his.

  ‘Sarah – are you all right, love? Can I get you anything?’

  At last some movement, a small shake of her head.

  George gripped her hand tighter, and said earnestly, ‘Sarah, please say something. I’m worried about you.’

  At last she turned to look at him, panic in her eyes. ‘No … no … I don’t want to talk. I’m scared, George … scared that if I let myself feel … if I let myself cry … I’ll never be able to stop.’

  ‘You can’t keep it all bottled up, love,’ he said and gently pulled her into his arms. ‘Come on, let it all out.’

  Just as he heard one, small, sob, his mother walked into the room carrying a tray. George shook his head at her and she quickly walked out again, while he gently began to stroke Sarah’s hair. She broke then, tears at last flowing, her body shuddering while George continued to hold her – listening to her heart shattering and wishing he could take away her pain, but knowing that he couldn’t.

  Chapter 43

  Two weeks had passed since Tommy’s funeral, and Sarah was back at work in the shop. Lena had thought it was too soon, but the girl had insisted she needed to keep her mind occupied.

  ‘I’m proud of you, you know,’ Lena said as she helped Sarah stock the refrigerators.

  ‘Oh, why’s that?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Look at you, back at work and getting on with things. It took me a long time to get over my husband’s death. In fact, I’m sure George has told you, I didn’t cope very well and took to my bed for quite some time. You should give yourself a pat on the back, young lady.’

  ‘I’m back at work, but I’m only just about functioning. To be honest, Lena, I’m havi
ng to force myself to get up every morning, and I’m finding it difficult to smile at our customers,’ Sarah said, and Lena could see her eyes were filling with tears.

  ‘Even so, you’re doing great so don’t beat yourself up. Make us both a drink, love. I think we deserve a break after filling up all the lard and butter shelves.’

  A few minutes later, Sarah came back onto the shop floor and the two of them sat behind the counter with their cups of Camp coffee. Lena took a sip and grimaced. ‘I’m still not keen on this stuff.’

  ‘Sorry, I should have made tea.’

  ‘No, it’s all right. It makes a change and I suppose I’ll get used to it. Sarah, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell both you and George, only I haven’t found the right time,’ Lena said, and tapped her ring finger on the side of her cup, hoping Sarah would notice the diamond.

  ‘Oh, what is it?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘It’s about me and Albert …’ Lena said and looked directly at the ring on her finger.

  ‘Oh, my goodness, Lena, you’re engaged!’ Sarah exclaimed, and jumped up from her stool. ‘Let me have a closer look at that ring,’ she said, taking Lena’s hand.

  ‘Yes, he proposed on my birthday, and well, I know we haven’t been dating for very long, but we’ve known each other for years.’

  ‘I’m so happy for you. When are you going to tell George?’

  ‘Tonight, I suppose, but I’m worried he might fly off the handle for a bit. What do you think?’

  ‘He doesn’t have a problem with you dating Albert and he always talks very highly of him. I’m pretty sure he’ll be pleased for you.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Lena said. George had accepted that she was dating Albert, but marriage might be another matter. ‘When I lost my husband, I never expected to be happy again, but I am, and in time you will be too.’

  The women drained their cups, and an hour later Lena finished her shift. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, love. I’ll let you know how George reacts to my engagement.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Sarah called.

  Lena hoped the shop would be busy for the rest of the afternoon. It would give Sarah less time to think. Since Tommy’s death she had lost her zest for life and her smiles were forced. It saddened Lena, but for now she had other things on her mind. She was keen to cook George’s favourite dinner, and when he was sitting happy and replete, she’d tell him about her forthcoming marriage.

  Sarah locked up the shop, and as always, dreaded going home to her empty room.

  Roger had been round last night and said he’d be round again that evening. It was only the thought of being all alone in her room that had made her agree, but Sarah now found that she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him. He wouldn’t let her mention Tommy’s name, saying it would only upset her, and only seemed interested in pestering her for sex again. After her first traumatic experience with him, she’d manage to hold him off, but she could see he was becoming increasingly frustrated with her. He didn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t ready for fun, and though he tried hard to make her laugh, it didn’t work. She didn’t want to enjoy herself, not yet, it was too soon. How could she laugh? She thought she’d feel guilty if she did. Couldn’t he see it was impossible for her to enjoy herself when her heart was still in pieces?

  Mo was coming down the stairs as Sarah arrived home. ‘Off to work?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Yep, they’ve asked us all to come in early. Gawd knows why, but I’ve gotta dash. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Mo said hurriedly and was gone.

  Sarah reluctantly went into her room. She ached for Tommy, missed him so much, and couldn’t bring herself to remove any of his things. Roger had told her it was unhealthy and she was creating a shrine to him. Lena told her to take no notice of what he said and to do things in her own time. She had never voiced an opinion about him, but Sarah sensed that Lena didn’t like Roger.

  She made herself a cheese sandwich, then quickly freshened herself up. It wasn’t long after when she heard Roger’s van pull up outside, but she didn’t get butterflies in her stomach like she used to. In fact, she felt her mood drop at the thought of having to fight him off.

  ‘Hello, gorgeous,’ Roger said when she opened the door.

  ‘Hi,’ Sarah replied, but didn’t feel like saying much else.

  ‘You’re not still moping about, are you? Come on, Sarah, you’ve got to buck your ideas up,’ Roger said as he followed her into her room.

  ‘I’m just tired, that’s all,’ she answered.

  ‘Come here, sexy, I’ll liven you up,’ Roger said as he pulled her towards him, his hands creeping up to her breasts.

  ‘Roger … please … I’m not in the mood.’

  With that he abruptly let go of her. ‘You’re never in the bloody mood, Sarah, and I’m not in the mood to put up with it. Your brother is dead – get over it, before it ruins the rest of your life. I’m going, but think about what I’ve said.’

  With that, Roger walked out, slamming the door behind him. Shortly after, Sarah heard his van drive off. It felt like she was losing him, and maybe she should have chased after him, but she couldn’t find the energy or the inclination to win him back, and his words had left her seething.

  Mo walked the aisles of the cinema, ushering people to their seats, and then hung a tray around her neck that carried sweets and cigarettes. It wasn’t the most challenging of jobs, but she liked the attention she’d invariably get from men.

  ‘Hey, miss, over here,’ Mo heard a man call. He was sitting with two other smartly dressed men near the aisle seats. They’d been a bit rowdy during the first half of the film and she’d politely requested they kept the noise down, but during the interval they’d become raucous again.

  ‘What cigarettes do you have there?’ the man asked.

  The lights were up during the interval and Mo could see the men more clearly. They were older than she’d originally assumed, so she expected better behaviour from them.

  ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ the man asked, studying her face intently.

  ‘I don’t think so, sir,’ Mo replied. She was used to men hitting on her and though she enjoyed flirting, there was something about this man that unnerved her.

  ‘Yeah, I do … I’ve definitely seen you somewhere before …’

  Mo went on to list the cigarette brands she was carrying, but the man suddenly cut in.

  ‘I’ve got it – you’re the lady in the postcards … you saucy little minx. I tell you what, lads, she’s got a great pair under that uniform.’

  The penny dropped and Mo was mortified. The man must have seen her naked photographs. Postcards, she thought in horror as she realised that the pictures must be in circulation. ‘You must be mistaken,’ she said hastily, and ran from the auditorium.

  In the staff room, Mo quickly removed her tray, grabbed her coat and hurried out onto the street. Once there, she sucked in the fresh air and tried to steady herself. She’d probably be sacked for running out like that, but didn’t care. It was too risky to go back in there again. If that man had recognised her, then surely others would too. Oh, God, would men who had seen the postcards recognise her in the streets too?

  Mo kept her head down as she made her way home. Samuel would question why she was back early, but she’d pretend to be unwell. All the times she’d hidden from her violent family she’d felt her room was a prison cell, yet now it felt like her sanctuary, and she couldn’t wait to be back in it.

  Chapter 44

  Sarah had struggled, but managed to get through another week at work. Despite walking out on her, Roger had been round to see her a couple of times. She managed to brush off his advances by telling him she was on her monthlies and now, as the sun rose on Sunday morning, Sarah found she wasn’t looking forward to going out with him later that day.

  She loved him and wanted to feel the way she had before Tommy died, but at the moment being with Roger was such hard work and she was beginning to resent that he behaved as if Tom
my had never existed. She would’ve spoken to Mo about the situation, asked her advice, but she hadn’t seen her all week. Samuel said Mo was ill in bed with flu and she hoped her friend would recover soon.

  Sarah sighed heavily as she poured some cereal for her breakfast. She really didn’t want to go out with Roger today, but couldn’t face his annoyance if she broke their date to his face. It was cowardly, but she decided to avoid him, and pop round to see George instead. Lena had said she and Albert were going out for the day, so George might welcome her company. She hadn’t seen him all week, but Lena had told her he’d taken the news of her engagement well, better than she’d expected. She had laughed, saying that her son seemed more worried about who was going to look after the house and cook his dinner once she was married and had moved in with Albert. Typical man, thought Sarah, but she knew that Lena had spoiled him and that living on his own was going to be a rude awakening.

  A couple of hours later, Sarah knocked on George’s door, to be greeted with surprise, but a warm welcome.

  ‘Wait ’til you see this, Sarah,’ he said animatedly, and showed her through to the front room.

  Sarah’s eyes widened. ‘Wow, George, you’ve got a television.’

  ‘Yep. Well, I reckoned if my mum’s going to be moving out I’ll need the company. It takes a bit of adjusting with the aerial, but once I’ve got it right, it’s a really good picture.’

  George showed Sarah how the television worked, and she watched with fascination. ‘Tommy would have loved this,’ she said, glad she could talk freely about him with George.

  ‘Funny you should say that ’cos I thought exactly the same thing,’ George said, and smiled warmly at her. ‘Anyway, what brings you here today?’

  ‘I’m supposed to be going out with Roger, but I’ve done a runner. Don’t get me wrong, George, I do love him, but he’s not very caring about my feelings. I can’t mention Tommy in front of him, and it’s hard not to ’cos he’s always in my thoughts.’