by Kitty Neale
‘How many times have I told you to stop doing that?’ Ethel said. ‘Use a bloody hanky.’
‘Yeah, sorry.’
Ethel sighed. Where Albie was concerned she’d thought there was only Miss Constance to worry about, but now it seemed Mary had a crush on him too. Of course she could understand why: her grandson was a handsome bugger, but a heartbreaker, and she didn’t want to see either Miss Constance or Mary hurt, especially as she’d be the one who’d have to pick up the pieces. Not only that, she was worn out and in no mood for this. All she wanted was to put her feet up, have a nice cup of cocoa and read her book, the perfect way to unwind before she turned in for the night. ‘Mary, take my advice and forget about Albie, and, Miss Constance, I’m sorry, but I’m not fit company for you this evening. I’m feeling a bit tired.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Constance said, sounding concerned. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘No, love, I just need a bit of peace and quiet, that’s all.’
‘Right, I’ll leave and you have a nice rest,’ Constance said, and after saying goodnight she went back upstairs.
It was just in the nick of time too. There was a knock on the basement door, Mary opened it and in walked Albie, grinning widely. ‘Wotcher, Gran.’
‘Well, look what the cat dragged in,’ Ethel greeted him.
‘Yeah, me, and it’s just as well I’ve brought you a bottle of stout. You look like you need building up.’
‘Thanks, love. It’s good to see you. So, tell your old gran what you’ve been up to.’
‘I’ve been doing a lot of long runs, and taking on a bit of overtime too. I’m saving up to buy a car.’
‘What’s wrong with your motor scooter?’
‘Gran, a Vespa is hardly conducive to courting. A car offers much more scope,’ he said with a cheeky wink.
Ethel shook her head, but had to smile. Albie always had this effect on her, the ability to lift her spirits, but nevertheless she chastised him. ‘I hope you’re not going to get up to mischief in this car when you get it.’
‘Who, me?’ Albie said, rounding his eyes in innocence. ‘Of course not.’
‘Yeah, and pigs might fly.’
Mary giggled, and Albie turned to look at her, saying, ‘Yeah, my gran’s funny. She makes me laugh too.’
‘Albie, I’m being serious,’ Ethel said. ‘I don’t want you getting a girl into trouble.’
‘Gran, I’m not stupid, and I’m always careful.’
‘Good. Now let’s change the subject. I don’t think this conversation is appropriate, especially with a young girl in the room.’
‘Yeah, sorry, Gran.’
‘How’s your mum?’
‘She’s all right, the same as ever.’
‘Is she still working in that paint factory?’
‘Yeah, but I don’t know how she stands it. I’d hate to be cooped up in there all day.’
‘She must like it, or she’d leave.’
‘I think it’s just familiarity. Mum likes routine, and she’s a stickler with the housework, everything done on its designated day. She’s a bit obsessive about it, and woe betide me if I move something out of its place, even the food in the larder.’
‘It’s good that she keeps a nice house, and you should be thankful. Surely it’s better to come home to a clean and tidy home than arrive at a dump?’
‘Of course it is. I just wish she’d lighten up a bit, that’s all.’
‘Maybe she needs another interest.’
‘Like what?’
‘I dunno, Albie, but I think it would be nice if she met someone, a chap who could take her out and about, instead of being stuck in at home.’
‘There’s no chance of that. She’s told me enough times that my dad was the only man for her and that no one can ever take his place.’
Ethel hung her head as again she was swamped with guilt. She’d done this – she was to blame – but there was nothing she could do to put it right.
Constance couldn’t settle when she went back upstairs. Her mother had been drinking heavily and was now asleep on the sofa, snoring, and her father was out, as usual. The house was so quiet, too big for just the three of them, with eight bedrooms on the first two floors, another four small ones in the eaves, and only a few of them in use. And of course there was the basement flat too. They had no other family; her parents were both only children. She had vague memories of grandparents, especially a jolly grandfather, but sadly both sets had died far too young. She sometimes longed for siblings, brothers or sisters, to hear the house ringing with noise and laugher, but sadly she too was an only child.
For a while Constance tried to read, but the story failed to hold her attention. She untucked her legs from under her and wandered over to the window, looking outside to see a Vespa scooter parked against the wall at the top of the basement steps. Her heart skipped a beat. There was Albie! Her first instinct was to run downstairs but, worried that it would annoy Ethel, she decided to go outside and sit on the steps that led to their front door. When Albie left he was sure to see her and maybe he’d talk to her. At least she hoped so.
It was half an hour later when Albie appeared, and Constance held her breath. If he didn’t see her, she’d have to call out to him, but what if he just waved at her before driving off?
Albie saw her and a wide smile appeared on his face. ‘Hello, Constance, I was hoping to see you again,’ he said, striding up to the steps and sitting down beside her.
‘Hel–hello, Albie,’ she said shyly.
‘What are you doing sitting out here?’
‘I … I’m just getting a bit of air,’ she said and, finding the courage to look at Albie, caught her breath. He was so close, so handsome, and she swayed towards him involuntarily.
Albie’s arm immediately went around her shoulders, and she pulled away, startled. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think you’d mind.’
‘I … I don’t. I was just surprised,’ she said, amazed at her bravery as his arm went around her shoulders again.
‘It’s nice, sitting here like this,’ Albie said, ‘and don’t worry. I don’t bite.’
Constance fought for something to say, something interesting that would keep him there, but instead found herself tongue-tied.
‘You must like living opposite the common,’ Albie said.
At last she found her voice, ‘Err … yes … and sometimes if feels as though we’re in the country instead of London.’
‘Yeah, it must do. You’re lucky – all I see from my house is the ones on the other side of the street.’
Constance wanted to tell him that she didn’t feel lucky, that most of the time she just felt lonely, but she didn’t want to frighten him away by being maudlin. ‘Do you live far from here?’
‘I live in Battersea, the next borough. Battersea Dogs Home is close by, and the park.’
‘It sounds nice.’
‘Nice! Blimey, you wouldn’t say that if you saw it.’
They heard the sound of voices approaching and a young couple walked past, hand in hand and laughing at something one of them had said. Constance envied them their happiness, but then inwardly chastised herself for being mean. It was as if seeing them broke the spell, and her heart sank when Albie spoke.
‘Well, I’d best be off. It was nice seeing you again.’
‘It … it was nice seeing you too,’ she said as they both rose to their feet.
For a moment they stood facing each and then Albie leaned forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. ‘Bye, Constance,’ he said softly, then lightly ran down the steps to his Vespa.
Constance stood, dazed but happy, her heart thumping in her chest and her hand raising to return Albie’s wave as he drove off. He had kissed her. Albie had actually kissed her. Did that mean he liked her? She dearly hoped so.
Chapter 4
The following week Constance spent every evening looking out for Albie, but it was eight days before he tur
ned up to see his gran again. She waited until he’d been downstairs for some time before going outside to sit on the steps again, thankful for once that her mother was drunk and had passed out on the sofa.
‘Hello, Constance,’ Albie said, grinning when he at last left the basement and saw her sitting there. ‘We meet again.’
‘Hello, Albie,’ she returned, thrilled when he came to sit beside her. She turned to look at him, once again struck by his looks. She couldn’t believe that someone so handsome was showing an interest in her. Constance wasn’t blind, she knew from her mirror that she was nothing to look at, so it was silly to think that Albie was interested in her. Yet here he was, looking happy to see her, so dare she hope?
‘My gran’s legs look in a state again, and I keep nagging her to retire.’
‘Oh, Albie, I’d miss her so much if she left.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m just thinking about me gran.’
‘Yes, of course you are, and that’s commendable.’
‘I love your use of words. Commendable, what does it mean?’
‘I suppose “worthy of admiration or praise” would be the best way to describe it.’
‘So you admire me?’ Albie said teasingly as he raised his eyebrows. ‘I like that, and I admire you too.’
Constance felt the blush flooding her face and lowered her head, but then swiftly lifted it again at Albie’s next words.
‘I must go. I’ve arranged to meet someone. Bye for now, Constance.’
‘Bye,’ she said softly, wondering if it was a girl he was meeting and feeling a pang of jealousy.
Albie bent forward to kiss her cheek again and this time he also gave her a swift hug, leaving her reeling as he drove off. For a few minutes she just stood on the step, replaying the hug, before she ran happily indoors.
It was now close to the end of August, and though nearly nine-thirty in the evening, it was still warm. The drawing room felt stifling, the book she was reading failed to hold her interest again, and impulsively Constance decided to go for a short walk. If her mother was awake she probably wouldn’t allow it, but sick of the constraints put on her, Constance rebelled for once, deciding she’d enjoy the freedom of other girls her age.
The sun had set, but street-lamps offered ample light as Constance strolled along. She wished she could go dancing, to the cinema, or roller skating in the park – all activities she was usually denied. Instead she was over-protected and kept almost a prisoner in her own home, her only freedom when she was in college.
Constance continued to walk but after half an hour, worried that her mother might wake to find her gone, she turned back. It was then that her heart skipped a beat. Albie Jones was walking towards her and as he drew close, he smiled widely.
‘Well, well, fancy bumping into you. Are you on your way home?’
‘Yes, I am,’ she said shyly, desperately trying to think of something else to say. ‘Have … have you been to see your gran? I didn’t see your scooter.’
‘My Vespa is in for a minor repair so I came by bus. If you’re not in any hurry, we could go for a walk.’
Constance threw caution to the wind and surprised herself when she answered, ‘I’d like that.’
‘Come on then,’ Albie said, taking her hand and leading her across the road onto the common.
As they strolled along a narrow path, Constance looked up at the sky, and though there were a few clouds she could still pick out some stars. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I think I can see Orion’s Belt.’
‘I’m not interested in astrology. I think it’s a load of tosh,’ Albie said.
‘Yes, I think so too, but studying stars is called astronomy.’
‘Blimey, yeah, of course it is. I must sound like an idiot.’
‘No, you don’t. We all get our words mixed up at times,’ she said, then she pointed at the moon. ‘NASA’s space exploration programme fascinates me, and I really think that one day in the not too distant future men will walk on the moon.’
‘Yeah, and pigs might fly,’ Albie quipped.
‘But I really think they will,’ Constance insisted.
‘Yeah, well, I’m not as clever as you so you could be right. I left school at fifteen without any qualifications, whereas my gran tells me you’re at college and may go on to university.’
‘Further education doesn’t make me your intellectual superior.’
‘See, that’s what I mean. As I told you before, I love your use of words and how you say them, posh-sounding. It really does turn me on.’
Albie was still holding her hand and squeezed it as he spoke. Constance was thrilled. When they came to a copse of trees he urged her to sit on the grass. She did so readily, and when his arm slipped around her she shivered with a strange excitement. His close proximity was intoxicating. She slowly turned to look at him and almost gasped as he leaned forward to kiss her. Constance had never been kissed on the lips before and found herself responding, loving the feel of his lips on hers. He continued to kiss her, and then began to fondle her, his hand slipping inside her blouse to cup her breast. She knew she should stop him, but felt unable to resist the feelings that ripped through her body. Before she knew it, Constance found herself lying on her back with Albie on top of her, and what happened soon after made her yelp with pain.
‘It’s all right,’ Albie soothed as he continued to penetrate her.
Constance knew she should have stopped him – thrown him off – but after the initial pain she found herself responding to his movements until, with a sudden groan and a gasp, Albie collapsed on top of her. She was left strangely wanting something that seemed just out of reach, but felt a surge of shame too. She wasn’t stupid. Her parents were over-protective, but she’d heard enough talk at school and college to know that she’d just lost her virginity. ‘Oh, God,’ she wailed. ‘What have we done?’
‘Bloody hell, I’m sorry, love,’ Albie responded as he rolled off her, adjusting his trousers, ‘but if you didn’t want it to happen you should have stopped me.’
Constance pushed her panties back into place, feeling sticky, uncomfortable and overwhelmed with shame. She rose to her feet, and began to hurriedly walk back along the narrow path.
‘Constance, wait,’ Albie called, and he came up alongside her. ‘You ain’t going to tell anyone about what happened, are you?’
‘What! No, of course not. I dread to think what my parents would do if they found out.’
‘Yeah, my gran would do her nut too. She’d blame me, of course, say I took advantage of you, but I didn’t. You was willing. You didn’t say no or do anything to stop me.’
‘I know that, but all I want now is to go home,’ Constance said huskily, close to tears. She knew she’d allowed it to happen, and was still swamped with guilt as they emerged onto the road from the common.
‘I’d walk you to your door, but I don’t think we should risk being seen together,’ Albie said. ‘Are you all right with that?’
‘Yes,’ Constance croaked.
‘Right then, I’ll go,’ Albie said and swiftly walked off in the opposite direction.
Tears fell readily then. Albie didn’t want to be seen with her and she couldn’t blame him. What sort of girl was she? A bad girl, a tart, for allowing him to make love to her so easily. With her head low Constance hurried home, relieved to find her mother still asleep on the sofa. She went up to her room, flung herself across the bed and sobbed until sleep overwhelmed her.
Chapter 5
August ran into September and Constance’s eighteenth birthday passed with hardly any celebrations. She was given a locket set on a fine gold chain, and her mother had instructed Ethel to make her a cake, but that was all. In the basement Ethel had felt a little sorry for Constance and had made a bit of a fuss of her, presenting her with a pretty scarf. She’d been pleased to see that Constance had liked it.
However, it was now the end of September and Ethel was worried. Albie hadn’t been to visit for over four weeks, which was unusual
. Previously the longest he’d gone without coming to see her was a fortnight. She wished she could go to her daughter’s house to ask if there was a problem, but no doubt Dora would slam the door in her face. Ethel’s forehead creased with worry. What if something had happened to Albie? He drove long distances and could have had an accident, but she had no way of knowing. She didn’t even know the name of the company he worked for and now wished she had asked him. Ethel slumped on a chair at the kitchen table, deciding that if Albie didn’t turn up soon, she’d go round to Dora’s whether her daughter liked it or not.
‘The mistress has got company and wants a tea tray,’ Mary said at noon as she ran down to the basement, ‘with some of those dainty cakes you made.’
‘Who’s called to see her?’ Ethel asked, glad to have something to turn her thoughts from Albie.
‘I don’t know, but she’s ever so posh.’
‘In that case, we’ll use one of the best tea services. Get the silver teapot out and the Royal Doulton china, along with the cakestand.’
Mary ran to do her bidding, while Ethel’s thoughts turned to Constance. The girl had returned to college weeks ago, setting off every morning on her bicycle, and she rarely came down to the basement now, but that was probably because she was studying hard for her exams. On the last occasion Ethel had seen her, Constance hadn’t mentioned Albie, and Ethel was relieved that the girl’s crush on him seemed to be a thing of the past. Mary probably still fancied him, but she could handle her, and if Albie took a shine to her, they were of the same class so it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Not that it was likely to happen; Mary wasn’t his type, she was a mousy little thing, and come to that, Miss Constance wasn’t much to look at either. Albie had jokingly said he fancied a bit of posh totty, and that was probably the only attraction.
With the tea made, Ethel arranged the cakes on the stand, then put the tray in the dumbwaiter while Mary ran upstairs to unload it. She was a good girl, worked hard, and though she was not the sharpest tool in the box, Ethel was growing fond of her. Mary had no parents, or any family that she knew of, but she seemed happy enough and never complained no matter how much work she was given to do. Ethel knew that Miss Constance had offered to help Mary with some housework, but the mistress wouldn’t hear of it. Of course that was no surprise – Mrs Burton Blake would never allow Constance to do menial work. She would consider it beneath her daughter, who was expected to marry well.
