Better Days Will Come (22 page)

‘Norris, please …’

He laid a key on the table. ‘I am looking for someone to clean one of my properties,’ he said matter of factly.

She frowned, puzzled. ‘Cleaning?’

‘Number 21 North Street,’ he went on. ‘It’s just before Ashdown Road.’

‘Cleaning?’ she repeated.

‘You have to have a reason to be there,’ he said. ‘Come next Thursday, May 8th. Make it 7.30pm.’ He gave her a knowing smile. ‘Then I shall have the pleasure of showing you exactly what I want you to do for me.’

Sunday was to be their last time together. Grace had made up her mind that if she had to go to Norris for the sake of her daughter, she couldn’t bring herself to cheat on Archie as well. It would hurt him far too much and he had suffered enough already. She had to end their relationship. It was only right.

She also had to go back up to London and try and find Bonnie again. It was imperative to get to the truth, no matter how difficult it might be. Bonnie would never be a party to murder. There had to be another explanation and Grace was all the more determined to find her daughter and get to the bottom of it.

When they met, Archie suggested they go up to Cissbury Ring. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. It was a warm day with a light breeze. She had brought some sandwiches and a flask of tea which he had put into his knapsack when they’d met outside the shop.

‘I’ve got a letter to post to my mother,’ she said stealing a glance at him. He looked more handsome than ever. ‘Remind me when we go past the letterbox.’

When they got on the bus, Archie told her Cissbury Ring was one of the largest hill forts in Sussex and that it was built two hundred years before Christ. Grace didn’t know much about the history of the place but she knew that from the top you could see Chichester Cathedral to the west and as far as Brighton and Beachy Head in the east. During the war, it had been used as a camp for the 2nd Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. Their manoeuvres damaged a fair bit of the land and some of it had been ploughed up to grow food, none of which went down too well with the locals. Grace listened to every word he said. She wanted to remember every moment of this day.

When they were on the bus, Archie sat so close to her that his thigh and hers were touching. He placed his hand over hers and held it firmly down on his own leg as they sat in companionable silence. The bus went through Broadwater and on to Offington Corner where it turned towards Findon Valley. They got off at the bottom of Nepcote Lane and walked the rest of the way. It was a steep hill and good exercise.

When her girls were small, she and Michael had walked up here. Not very often because Highdown Hill was a lot closer to home, but she remembered the children gathering blackberries on the way.

They walked right to the top and, breathless with exertion, they sat down under a tree with its trunk at their backs. Rumour had it that at night, people practised pagan rites up here but Grace was never sure if that was for real or a yarn. A skylark soared above them and soon the swallows would leave. In the distance a dog was barking and the fields below were dotted with sheep. Being up here in this haven only brought home all the more sharply her own sense of turmoil.

‘Have you thought any more about the petition?’ he asked.

Grace didn’t know what to say. She was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. She knew Norris wanted Elsie Dawson and her family out, for instance. Harry was becoming more difficult and Dougie had always been a bit odd. Elsie’s rent was a good thirty bob more than hers by now and yet the house was identical. The petition was the right thing to do, but what would happen to Bonnie if Grace were a party to it and Norris saw her name on the form?

Archie was waiting for an answer.

‘I’ll let you know at the end of the day,’ she said miserably.

Archie dozed while Grace wrote a letter to Bonnie. There wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t think of her daughter, wondering where she was and what she was doing. She still had nowhere to send the letters but the shoebox was half full already. Grace comforted herself that if she didn’t see Bonnie this side of the grave, one day her daughter would know she had never forgotten her.

Archie knew that she was writing to Bonnie. He never asked what she said and he never pooh-poohed the idea either and Grace loved him for that. This was her moment: personal, private and tinged with sadness.

Grace leaned back against the tree trunk and read what she had written. She began with the walk and the view. She told Bonnie how Rita had gone to the theatre for the first time. ‘
Rita spends more and more time with Liliana,’
she wrote. ‘
She helps in the shop in the evening, clearing up and stuff. Her new friend Dinah has asked her to help her clean up her grandmother’s cottage as well.’

‘Finished?’ Archie said sitting up. ‘I’m starving.’

Grace took the sandwiches out of the knapsack and offered him one. He smiled and took it eagerly. All at once, Grace felt tears spring to her eyes. This would be the last time. She might see him at the shop but this would be their last time together. It wasn’t fair. She never thought she would find another good man but she couldn’t bring herself to break his heart in the way his wife had done. She comforted herself that it was still early on in their relationship. He’d move on and meet someone else eventually.

‘The business is picking up quite well,’ he said. ‘I had two orders this week, one chair to reupholster and a three piece suite with a woven cane backing.’

‘Is that good?’

‘Very,’ he smiled. ‘The chair will be done in the very best leather I can get and the suite will take me a while.’ He lowered his voice confidentially. ‘I can tell you now that both of them will be hideously expensive.’

‘You need to take my chair,’ she reminded him.

‘I might not need to if you were my wife.’

The question got lost somewhere. He’d expected some sort of reaction, but Grace pretended she hadn’t heard. She was toying with an idea. ‘If you’re doing so well,’ she began, ‘is it possible you could offer a job to Dougie?’

‘Dougie?’

‘Elsie Dawson’s boy,’ she said. ‘You remember him. He was the one fixing the clockwork toy at Christmas.’

‘Oh I remember,’ said Archie. ‘He’s a bit simple, isn’t he?’

‘He’s not as thick as they make out,’ she said stoutly. ‘If you can explain things to him, he’ll get it. You just need a little patience that’s all.’

‘I don’t know, Gracie,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to take on another person. I couldn’t pay much either.’

‘You wouldn’t have to if you took on Dougie,’ she insisted. ‘All right, he’s a bit odd but a more loyal person you could never wish to meet.’

He put his arm around her and pulled her back onto his chest. ‘Oh Gracie, you’re wonderful,’ he said, kissing her hair. ‘I’ll think about it.’

Grace was tense and on edge. Here she was, sorting out someone else’s life, when her own was in such a mess. She had heard him say,
I might not need to if you were my wife
… but she didn’t want him to ask her to marry him again. If he did she would have to say no. She didn’t want to spoil this last perfect afternoon, she wanted her memories to be completely unsullied. They would soon be all she had left. Coward that she was, she didn’t want to tell him up here. She gulped back a sob.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked anxiously.

‘Fine,’ she said brightly. ‘Just enjoying the view.’

When they got back to Worthing, he stopped outside his shop. ‘Coming in while I wash your flask?’

She shook her head. ‘Give me the flask here. I can wash it up when I get home.’

‘I don’t mind,’ he protested mildly.

‘No, really,’ she said. She held her hand out.

‘Aren’t you coming in?’ He sounded both hurt and puzzled.

She took the flask and the sandwich box and then stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘No Archie. Thanks for a lovely day but I shan’t be coming in.’

He looked stunned. ‘What did I say?’

‘Nothing,’ she said, willing her voice to stay strong. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to get someone else to do your petition. I’msorry, Archie. You’ve been what you always are, the perfect gent. I shall never forget you, but I’m afraid I can’t do this again.’

He snatched at her arm. It was tearing her to shreds saying all this.

‘What is this?’ he demanded.

Her heart was pounding and her head felt terrible. Don’t make me do this, she thought. Don’t, Archie, please …

‘Look me in the eye and say all that again, Gracie.’

She turned her head and faced him. ‘I don’t want to see you again,’ she said with a strength she didn’t know she had. He looked totally shocked. He let go of her and she walked briskly away. ‘And I think it would be better if you didn’t come to my house any more.’

‘Gracie,’ he called after her. ‘Gracie, wait a minute …’

But she couldn’t. She daren’t. If she turned back she’d be in his arms and he’d be kissing her.

‘Gracie …’

Goodbye dear, dear Archie, she thought. Be happy. Never had she been so glad to reach her own front door.

Rita had spent the day in Alice Chamberlain’s house. It was very dark, old fashioned and cluttered. Dinah had persuaded a few of her friends from WMCS and Rita to give her a hand with a big clear out. Rita had been the first to arrive.

Dinah, looking very elegant in an apron and a turban around her head, opened the door. ‘I still can’t quite believe it,’ she told Rita. ‘I know it’s an awful cliché, but you could have knocked me down with a feather when they told me Granny had left me the house.’

‘She owned the house?’ Rita gasped.

‘Apparently Granddad had the opportunity to buy it in the 1930s,’ Dinah went on. ‘The owner needed some money pretty darned quick so Granddad took out a loan and bought the house for £78.’

‘Will you sell it?’ Rita asked.

‘Not for the moment,’ said Dinah, ‘although I must say, I have had an offer. Can you be a darling and help me move this sofa? I’m sure there’s loads of things down the back of it.’

They pushed and pulled the heavy furniture away from the wall and Dinah was right. Books, magazines, old newspapers and even a box of old Christmas cards tumbled in disarray to the floor when the sofa was moved.

‘Who made you an offer?’ Rita asked and she knelt down and began to pick up everything. She put it on the seat.

‘Umm? Norris Finley,’ said Dinah, distracted by an old birthday card. ‘I gave this to Granny. It must be the last time I sent her a card.’

‘Mr Finley owns just about every house in the road,’ said Rita.

‘Including yours?’

Rita shrugged. ‘Our house belongs to my father’s family.’ She suddenly felt uncomfortable. That implied that she and her family owned their house and yet Rita knew her mother paid rent. She’d never bothered to think of that before. ‘Actually, my mother pays some sort of rent to Riverside Properties.’

‘I think you’ll find that’s the name of Mr Finley’s companies,’ said Dinah.

‘Oh,’ said Rita.

Someone knocked on the door and Dinah went to answer it. Some friends from the WMCS came in, and Bob Dawson with them.

‘Hope you don’t mind me gate-crashing,’ he said.

‘Hey,’ cried Dinah. ‘You’re out of the army at last!’

‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘On leave, but I only have a few months to do.’

Rita smiled and to her surprise was pleased to see him. He looked a lot better for the time he’d been in the army. His spots had gone and apart from his awful army short back and sides haircut, he looked quite handsome. ‘I never did write and thank you for that mention in
Forces Favourites
at Christmas,’ she said.

‘I couldn’t get you out of my mind,’ he said. ‘Did you miss me?’

Emilio sauntered in through the door to another flurry of welcome. Rita’s face lit up. ‘Emilio came this year.’

Emilio flashed a smile. ‘It was good,’ he said. ‘Good time.’

Rita slipped her arm through Emilio’s. ‘Come on, let me show you both what Dinah was doing.’

Crestfallen, Bob followed them into the kitchen.

‘It’s obvious that my granny was a hoarder,’ said Dinah once everyone was ready to start. ‘I’ll have to get rid of most of it but I don’t want to throw everything out.’

As they went through the drawers they found everything from bus tickets to old newspapers, magazines, buttons, knitting patterns, old dollies, dresses and photographs.

‘It’ll take you ages to work through this lot,’ someone said.

‘There’s no hurry,’ said Dinah. ‘We can take our time.’

Rita was given the job of sorting out the scullery and to her absolute joy, Emilio was sent to join her. They began by turning out the old Rinso packets, half empty used blocks of Drummerboy Blue, bottles with just a dribble of bleach left in them and old milk bottles. They piled everything into the dustbin, put the milk bottles back outside for the milkman and set about cleaning the surfaces.

Being so close to Emilio left Rita feeling quite breathless. She struggled to think of anything to say but she had already worked out that Emilio didn’t seem as happy as he had done at Christmas.

How are you enjoying the fishing? Do you have any other brothers and sisters? What did you think of the show?
All her questions seemed like an interrogation especially when he didn’t elaborate much when he answered.

‘I enjoy,’ didn’t tell her much when it came to the fishing for instance. He was a little more forthcoming when it came to his family but Rita would have liked to be told much, much more.

‘My sister, she marry American G.I.’ he told her. ‘She go to New York. She have good life in America.’

‘You didn’t want to join her?’

‘She say she kill me,’ he laughed. ‘I come to Uncle Salvatore. He have good business.’

Rita smiled. He sounded almost envious of Salvatore’s café and yet he’d made it perfectly clear that he was a fisherman. She had pulled the old copper away from the wall so that she could brush behind it and a couple of mice skittled across the floor. Rita squealed before she could stop herself and Emilio laughed. Dinah poked her head around the corner.