The Memory Box

by Kathryn Hughes

  ‘Perhaps I could have my bank card back, then I won’t need to ask.’

  He released his grip on her hands and touched her cheek instead. ‘Steady on, I don’t think we’re quite there yet, babe. We don’t want to spoil all the progress we’ve made.’ His accompanying smile was only just the right side of patronising.

  ‘I’m fine now, Beau, honestly. You worry too much.’

  ‘Hmm, perhaps,’ he said, leaping off the bed. ‘But once a spendthrift, always a spendthrift.’

  The salon looked deserted, and she wondered if she had made a mistake with the day. Then, as she peered through the door, Fliss emerged from behind a curtain, a cigarette wedged between her lips as she carried a tray of nail polish. Candice tapped on the glass.

  Fliss set down the tray, stubbed out the cigarette and fanned the air around her before coming to open the door.

  ‘Ooh, caught me having a crafty fag. Come on in, love.’ She beckoned Candice over the threshold, her countless bracelets jangling like wind chimes in a storm.

  ‘Don’t worry on my account,’ Candice said. ‘I’m used to it.’

  ‘Against the law, though, int it? Never mind that I own the place and should be able to do whatever I like, the law says you can’t smoke in the workplace.’ Fliss flicked her head towards the back door. ‘There’s a place you can go out there if you need your fix.’

  ‘It’s all right, I don’t smoke, ta.’

  ‘Oh, right, well you’re probably wise not to.’ She gazed down at her own fingers, rubbing away at the yellow stain. ‘Wish I’d never started, but here we are. Can’t turn back the clock, can we? Now,’ she pointed a long acrylic nail towards a chair at the back of the shop, ‘that’s yours. Make yourself at home and don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. I was in your shoes once, you know, just starting out in the beauty business, and look at me now with me own salon. Mind you, my Derek thinks I should sell up and move to Fuengirola with him. He’s a good bit older than me and he’s got a bob or two.’ She coughed into her hand. ‘Ooh, I’m parched. Stick the kettle on, love. He’s done all right for himself. Not that that’s why I’m with ’im, you understand. In any case, he likes to be seen with a beautiful blonde on his arm.’

  ‘I see,’ said Candice, filling the kettle from the sink.

  ‘And when he couldn’t find any takers in the beautiful blonde department, he had to make do with yours truly.’ Fliss gave a throaty laugh.

  She was actually a striking woman. It was no wonder she had caught Beau’s eye. She might be on the wrong side of forty, and Candice had seen less make-up on a pantomime dame, but there was a magnetic quality about her that was endearing.

  ‘It’s really good of you to give me a chance like this.’

  Fliss dismissed her with a wave of her hand. ‘It’s mutually beneficial, cocker. I’ve got enough on my plate with the nails, the fake tans, the facials and what have you. No, you crack on, love. It’s all good. What time’s your first appointment?’

  ‘I’ve got one at nine thirty and another at twelve.’

  ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Well, it’s early days, and in any case I’ve to be back at Green Meadows later.’

  ‘That’s the old folks’ home you work in?’

  Candice nodded. ‘It’s a residential care home actually. It’s very posh and I like it there, but it’s shift work and Beau’s not keen on me being out all night.’

  Fliss nodded her agreement. ‘I can imagine. He’s besotted with you, isn’t he?’

  Candice couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘Is he?’

  ‘Oh God, yes. He didn’t stop talking about you the night I met him in the . . . um . . .’ She clicked her fingers in the air. ‘Oh Lord, my memory . . .’

  ‘The Lemon Tree,’ Candice supplied.

  ‘That’s the one. I thought it was quite sweet. I mean, there was loads of girls in there who were all over him. Must be hard to resist for a red-blooded guy like Beau.’ She gave another coarse laugh. ‘You’re a lucky girl, Candice. Gorgeous and loyal. That’s quite a rare combination in the music industry.’

  ‘Yes,’ mused Candice. ‘I suppose it is. What . . . erm . . . what did he say?’

  Fliss frowned through the smoke haze. ‘About what?’

  ‘About me. You said he never stopped talking about me.’

  She shook her head. ‘I didn’t take notes, love. I can’t remember specifically, but I remember thinking how much he must love you.’

  It was all she needed to hear. She made a mental note to tell Jenny she was wrong.

  39

  We’re sitting under the wooden gazebo, the knotty, twisted vines of the wisteria just beginning to show signs of blossoming. Candice is proving to be an attentive listener, and I’m so relieved she’s invested in my story. The worst part is yet to come, of course. However, our trip is now only three weeks away, and I’m still managing to put one foot in front of the other. I think I’m going to make it.

  Candice pours me another glass of Prosecco. Didn’t I tell you it was posh in here? It’s not even a special occasion, unless you count celebrating the fact that we’re all still alive. Frank is close by, a straw boater pulled low over his eyes as he sups his pint and balances the crossword on his knee. My mind wanders, but my eyes focus on the blackbird tugging an unfortunate worm out of the turf.

  ‘So, you married Nico then?’ Candice asks finally. I’m annoyed that she wants to skip ahead. Perhaps she senses my time’s nearly up and doesn’t want me to shuffle off before I get to the end.

  Still, no point in prolonging the suspense, I suppose. This isn’t an episode of EastEnders. ‘Yes, I did, Candice. I married Nico.’

  ‘Oh heck, poor Lorcan.’ She pats her heart with her hand. ‘And poor little Louis.’

  ‘I imagine it must’ve been hard for all of them,’ Frank chimes in.

  Good God, who rattled his cage? I’m momentarily taken aback. I’d no idea he was paying us any attention.

  I’ve told Frank bits of my story in the nine months or so I’ve known him. Nine months? Good grief, is that all? I feel as though I’ve known him all my life. We all have a great deal of time on our hands in here. Plenty of opportunity to just talk and reflect on the past. After all, none of us has much future to think about.

  ‘I thought about Louis constantly in the immediate aftermath of what happened,’ I say. ‘I’ve wrestled with my conscience so much over the years, agonised over the decision I made until it nearly drove me insane. It is to my eternal regret that he got caught up in it all.’

  Wordlessly Candice passes me a serviette, and I dab my eyes. She shuffles to the edge of her seat. ‘Bless him. What happened then? With the wedding, I mean.’

  It still makes me groan out loud when I think about it. ‘I wanted to go into the chapel and tell everybody the wedding was off. I may be many things, but a coward is not one of them. I thought I owed them all an explanation, but Lorcan wouldn’t hear of it. Louis sided with him, and they both stood with their arms outstretched, preventing me from going inside. I wanted to hang on to what little dignity I had left, so when Nico took my hand and pulled me away, I meekly followed him.’

  I reach for my Prosecco glass and drain the contents in one go. The bubbles fizz up my nose and the serviette is called into action again.

  ‘We went to the square, to the gelateria, but it was all boarded up. Obviously, with the war still on, nobody was looking to purchase a business, especially one that relied so heavily on rationed commodities.’ I nod at the bottle of Prosecco and Candice takes the hint and refills my glass. ‘We managed to find a room for the night in the next town. The news had spread like measles, and people in Penlan were not exactly sympathetic towards us.’

  Candice nods her agreement. ‘I can imagine. The Evans family were such a big part of that community, and everybody loved Lorcan, didn’t they?’

  She makes it sound as though she was there. She’s obviously been taking it all in.

  ‘The hotel room was s
o dreary. I remember everything was brown. Brown carpet, brown walls, brown curtains, even the eiderdown was brown. There was no colour, no joy; it seemed to reflect the seriousness of the situation. It wasn’t a room we could be happy in.’

  ‘I bet you felt you didn’t deserve happiness.’ Candice has taken on the air of an agony aunt, a slightly judgemental one.

  ‘The room only had one double bed,’ I continue, smiling inwardly as her eyes widen.

  Frank stands up suddenly – well, as suddenly as an octogenarian can manage. ‘Uh-oh, time for me to go, I think. I’ll leave you two ladies to talk about the particulars.’

  I shake my head at his retreating figure. ‘Nico was the perfect gentleman. He insisted I take the bed and he slept in the armchair by my side.’ I manage a small laugh. ‘It wasn’t how I expected to spend my wedding night.’

  ‘You had no regrets, though?’ She seems desperate to hear that I made the right decision.

  ‘I knew Nico was the man I was meant to be with. But as I said, I had plenty of regrets about the hurt I’d caused, not just to Lorcan, but to Del and Bryn too. And as for Louis, well . . .’ I gaze up at the clear sky. Two planes have crossed paths and their vapour trails make a huge cross directly above our heads. ‘That was my biggest regret of all.’

  40

  1942

  Jenny stared up at the farmhouse, recalling the first time she’d laid eyes on it. Back then she had regarded it as a sanctuary that would keep them safe for the duration of the war. Now it seemed like a formidable fortress she had no permission to enter.

  Ivor and Megan lifted their heads and stared at her with their sinister yellow eyes. Composing herself, she lifted the knocker and rapped three times. Nico had wanted to come with her, but she’d insisted this was something she needed to do by herself. She wiped her hands down her skirt and swallowed hard. It would be difficult, but she was no coward.

  She was about to rap again when the door was opened a crack. Delyth stuck her head through. ‘What do you want?’ She didn’t bother to hide her animosity.

  Jenny’s rehearsed words evaporated on her lips. ‘I . . . I . . . um, I’ve come for my stuff and to collect our Louis.’

  Delyth eased herself through the gap in the door before closing it behind her. ‘You’ve got a nerve, I’ll give you that.’ She was clearly in no mood to make things easy.

  ‘Look, you’ll never know how sorry I am, but can we please keep it civil. There’s a small boy involved here and I don’t want to upset him.’

  ‘Ha,’ Delyth guffawed. ‘It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? He’s utterly heartbroken. He’s cried himself to sleep for the past three nights.’

  ‘Oh . . . oh, the poor thing.’ Jenny took a step forward. ‘Well, I’m here now, so if I could just come in and pack up our stuff . . .’

  Delyth ignored her. ‘What did I tell you when you first arrived here?’

  Jenny shook her head. ‘I’m not following you.’

  ‘I told you not to break my son’s heart.’ Delyth flicked a tear away. ‘My Lorcan is the sweetest, gentlest soul ever to walk this earth, but you treated him like something you’d found on the bottom of your shoe.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. I—’

  ‘Oh please. Don’t try to defend yourself. I’m not interested in your pathetic excuses. You don’t deserve him. He’s better off without you.’ She jabbed a finger into Jenny’s chest. ‘And one day, he’ll find true love, you mark my words. There’s somebody out there who’ll love him the way he deserves to be loved, and when he meets that person, he’ll wonder what the hell he ever saw in a trollop like you.’

  Although Jenny hadn’t been expecting a red carpet, Delyth’s venomous words hurt and she felt tears stinging her eyes.

  ‘That’s right,’ Delyth said. ‘Turn on the waterworks. Make it all about you.’

  ‘Please, Del. I know I’ve hurt many people. Believe me, it would’ve been a lot easier to go through with the wedding, but is that really what you would’ve wanted? Is it what Lorcan would’ve wanted? For me to marry him out of pity or a sense of duty?’

  Delyth looked at the ground, her voice just a whisper. ‘It’s agony seeing him in so much pain.’ She glanced up. ‘Should you ever be lucky enough to be blessed with a son, I want you to remember this moment.’ She paused and wiped her eyes again. ‘Perhaps then you’ll understand.’

  Jenny nodded. ‘I can’t keep apologising, Del. If I could just come in and pack our things—’

  ‘Our things?’ Del interrupted. ‘I don’t think so. Louis isn’t going anywhere.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, of course he is. He’s my brother. He’s coming with me.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to.’

  Jenny frowned. ‘He doesn’t want to?’ Her contrition of a few moments ago morphed into anger. ‘You’ve poisoned him against me, haven’t you?’

  Delyth laughed. ‘No, bach. You did that all by yourself.’

  Jenny shouted at the upstairs window. ‘Lorcan, are you there? You need to come down and talk some sense into your mother.’

  Delyth folded her arms. ‘He’s not here. He’s up on the mountain with Bryn.’

  ‘When will he be back?’

  She shrugged. ‘He’ll be hours probably, and in any case, he doesn’t want to see you either.’

  ‘He told you that, did he?’

  ‘In no uncertain terms.’

  ‘Right, I’m sick of this. Where’s Louis?’

  ‘I don’t think you’re listening to me.’ Delyth spoke slowly, as though talking to an imbecile. ‘Louis . . . isn’t . . . going . . . anywhere.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Del. You’re being unreasonable.’

  ‘That’s rich coming from you.’

  Jenny rubbed her temples, trying to erase the beginnings of a headache. ‘I need to talk to him. You can’t deny me that, surely?’

  Louis lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, Mrs Nesbitt clamped to his chest.

  ‘Lou-Lou,’ she whispered. ‘It’s me, can I come in?’

  She hesitated on the threshold, awaiting his permission, but when none was forthcoming, she stepped into the room and sat down on the end of his bed. He turned onto his side and faced the wall.

  ‘Louis,’ she urged. ‘Don’t be like that, come on.’ She rubbed his back but he shrugged her off. ‘Louis, please. Just look at me.’

  ‘Don’t want to, go away.’ He drew his legs into a foetal position and rubbed his teddy’s ear under his nose. ‘You never did make a skirt for Mrs Nesbitt and you promised you would. Why do you never keep your promises?’

  This was more difficult than she had imagined, but she tried to keep calm. No sense in getting all aeriated with the little fella. ‘I know you’re upset, Louis. And I’m so, so sorry about that. You’re the last person on this earth I’d wish to hurt.’

  There was no response, but she ploughed on anyway. Things needed to be said, and perhaps it was better this way. ‘Louis, I couldn’t marry Lorcan when I didn’t really love him, not in the way a wife is supposed to love her husband. When you’re bigger and have a wife of your own, perhaps you’ll understand.’ She heard him sniff as he buried his face in Mrs Nesbitt’s fur. ‘I know you’re fond of Lorcan, and you couldn’t have wished for a better brother. He’s taught you so many things and you’ve flourished under his wing.’ She gave a small laugh. ‘Do you remember what you were like when you first arrived here, eh? Frightened of everything, and so timid. Now you’re like a different boy, a proper little farmer, and I’m so proud of you.’

  He remained silent, seemingly determined not to make this easy for her.

  ‘Anyway, come along now. We need to get your stuff packed up.’

  He rolled onto his back then and sat up, his red-veined eyes puffy. ‘I’m not leaving the farm and you can’t make me.’ It was said with a quiet determination.

  ‘You know I can’t stay here now, Louis. We have to go.’

  ‘I don’t have to go. Mammy Del said she’ll look
after me forever.’

  ‘I haven’t got time to argue. Nico’s waiting for us.’

  She pulled his little suitcase from under the bed, opened his wardrobe and began to take down his clothes. He jumped off the bed and pushed her so hard she stumbled backwards, lost her footing and landed on her bottom, leaving her momentarily shocked into silence.

  ‘Lou . . . Louis,’ she said, heaving herself to her feet and abandoning the soft approach. ‘Pick up that suitcase this minute and start packing.’ She rubbed her right buttock, which had borne the brunt of her fall. ‘You’re acting like a spoilt brat and I’m not having it. Do you hear me?’ She grabbed him by the arm, more roughly than she had intended, just as Del appeared in the doorway.

  She moved towards Jenny. ‘Take your hands off him at once.’

  Louis ran to her and clung to her leg. ‘Jenny hurt me, Mammy Del.’

  Del smoothed his hair. ‘Yes, well she’s good at that, bach.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Louis. I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Why don’t you just get your things and go, Jenny?’ Delyth nodded at Louis. ‘He’s made his feelings quite clear. He doesn’t want anything to do with you, so I think it’s best all round if you just disappear.’ She waved her hand. ‘Go on, swan off with your fancy man and leave us alone to get on with our lives.’

  ‘No chance,’ said Jenny. ‘He’s my brother and he belongs with me. For one thing, I promised my mother we’d stay together, and I don’t intend to break that promise.’ She held out her hand. ‘Come on, Louis.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m not going.’ Then, much louder, ‘I hate you.’

  Delyth could not hide her smugness. ‘I think that was pretty clear. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to pack. You can let yourself out when you’re done.’

  The packing hadn’t taken long. She’d arrived here almost two and a half years ago with few possessions, and was leaving without many more. She lifted the jewellery box from her dressing table. Many, many hours of work had gone into it but she knew it had been a labour of love for Lorcan. She traced her finger around her initial before lifting the lid and feeling the soft velvet. He had promised to fill it with jewellery, but now that would never be. She pushed the box into her suitcase, pressed the catches into place and took one last look around the spartan room. Her eyes settled on Louis’s wooden carving, her wedding present. She picked it up, her fingers caressing the smooth head of the little boy figure. Then she prised it out, leaving the girl’s arms empty, and headed downstairs, clutching the two separate pieces in one hand, her suitcase in the other.