Chocolate Girls (54 page)

Janet had plenty of time to spend alone with Frances and look after her while Edie was at work, and it was a huge relief to Edie that there was someone in the house. At the weekends they often wheeled the girls out in an old twin pram, borrowed from a lady down the road. Some people, seeing them with two black babies, looked away, embarrassed, not sure what to make of it. Occasionally women – often mothers of twins themselves – made a fuss of them, asking all the twin questions people always asked. Yes, they were both girls, yes, one was bigger than the other, wasn’t she? To their amusement, not one of the people who stopped and talked commented on their colour, as if their blackness was invisible and it was perfectly normal for a white woman to give birth to black twins. Edie wondered if Janet would find the situation upsetting, but she shrugged it off.

‘We’ll soon be back home,’ she said, ‘and everyone there knows how I come to be bringing them up!’

Edie felt a little desolate at the way she spoke so comfortably of the Congo as ‘home’.

With Janet back, she felt free to go and visit Anatoli in London, and they spent a couple of wonderful weekends. Edie fell in love with the London parks now the spring was coming. They were very passionate together, but Edie told Anatoli that though she was looking forward to conceiving his child she didn’t want to be a pregnant bride.

‘I didn’t catch that first time,’ she told him. ‘But I’d like us to take precautions – ’til we’re married.’

It was not long before they were planning to marry as soon as they could. With Janet home and Frances so ill, it seemed wrong to put it off.

‘I’d like us to marry before Frances . . . isn’t here any more.’ They were strolling through Regent’s Park on a cool, but bright and sunny afternoon, watching the ducks and geese. Edie’s arm was linked through Anatoli’s.

‘My dear, I am happy to marry you as soon as you like – you know that,’ he said.

All Edie’s uncertainties came pouring out. Of course she’d have to leave Birmingham and move into his house, wouldn’t she? Leave behind her friends and her job. Of course she liked London, and she’d do anything so long as they could build a life together. But still . . .

‘Oh – wait now!’ Anatoli stopped, steering her round to face him and putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘Look – don’t take things for granted! I don’t expect you to want to move into the house I shared with Margot! That would be very unfitting. I am not even especially attached to London. How about I sell my house and buy a place in Birmingham? Umm?’

Edie looked at him in amazement. ‘But . . . What about your job?’

He shrugged. ‘I’ll get another one. I’m a good pharmacist!’

‘And . . .’ She struggled to think of other objections to his generosity. ‘What about your children?’

He laughed. ‘What about them? One is in York, one in Canada – what possible difference does it make to them if I live in Wimbledon or Birmingham?’

She still couldn’t take it in. ‘Would you really do that? You wouldn’t mind?’

‘No, I wouldn’t mind.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘I am ready for a new start. You are making me younger every day!’

They began to make their wedding plans swiftly, but unfortunately other events moved even more quickly. Martin arrived from the Congo, looking bronzed and, Edie thought, actually more handsome with age. It was lovely to see him and Janet together, and see how devoted they were to the little girls. He and Anatoli also seemed to find a lot to talk about when they were introduced, and Edie and Janet smiled at each other and winked.

But within the week Frances began suffering a lot of pain. Neither Edie nor Janet were getting any sleep sitting up with her, and Martin advised them to have her admitted to Selly Oak Hospital. When Janet had been to take in a few of her things, she came back in tears.

‘She’ll be better off in there,’ Martin told her, holding her, stroking her shoulders. ‘I know it’s hard, but they can keep the pain at bay better, and she has almost reached the point when she doesn’t know where she is. You and Edie can’t go on like this.’

‘I know,’ Janet sobbed, tired and distraught. ‘I don’t know if I’m relieved or horrified at her going in there! It feels as if we’ve let her down, packing her off like that.’

‘She wouldn’t think that, darling,’ Martin said. ‘That’s what hospitals are for.’

‘No – she wouldn’t,’ Edie added doubtfully. She also felt she had let Frances down. It had felt so final, seeing her being taken into the ambulance on a stretcher, her pinched face yellow against her white nightgown. She had barely been conscious. But Edie was exhausted herself, pale and wrung out with emotion and lack of sleep. She had sat up with her the night before. Early on in the night she had combed Frances’s hair, the front parts which she could reach. It was so thin now. There were hollows under her eyes, and the skin seemed to have stretched tight round her jaw now she had lost so much flesh. Most of the time she slept, her energy spent. Edie sat in the chair beside her, dozing.

But in the small hours, Frances surfaced, her eyes opening, still radiant lights of life in her face. For a few moments she was alert.

‘What time is it?’ she asked, hoarsely.

‘Three o’clock – nearly,’ Edie told her.

‘In the afternoon?’

‘No, the morning.’ They left a sidelight burning in the room. It was hard even for Edie to tell whether it was day or night in her weary state.

Frances frowned. ‘Why aren’t you in bed then, dear? You’ll be tired.’

‘Oh, I just thought I’d sit by you for a while,’ Edie said, taking her cool, bony hand.

Frances’s eyes fixed on her face, looking deeply into her. Solemnly, she whispered, ‘You know I love you, dear, don’t you? I want you to be happy.’

Edie wanted to howl. How could she begin to say to Frances what she had meant to her? All the love and care she had given her and David when they had really had no one else to care for them. She’d been a mother and friend all in one. No words could ever be enough. Through the big lump in her throat Edie managed, ‘And I love you too . . .’ She was about to try to say more, but Frances nodded with a faint smile and closed her eyes again.

Edie knew now that Frances would not return home, and was not going to be at her wedding. The thought grieved her enormously. But Frances had now given the only sort of blessing she could manage.

Two days later, as soon as Edie walked in from work and saw Janet’s face, she knew.

‘We’ve only just got in.’ Janet was blotchy from crying. The twins were on her and Martin’s laps and they were feeding them fingers of bread and butter. ‘She died this afternoon. I got in there just in time, but she didn’t come round. They had her on morphine and she was quite peaceful. I would have sent a message for you – but it was too late. Robert didn’t manage to get there until afterwards.’

Edie sat down shakily at the kitchen table, coat on, still holding the handles of her bag. Although they had known it was coming, it still felt like a terrible shock. Martin sat opposite her, looking serious, and sorry.

‘I’m sorry, Jan.’ Tearfully, Edie got up and kissed her, squeezing her friend’s shoulders.

‘I’ve contacted the undertakers. The funeral’s on Friday. She’d only want it very simple.’

‘Look, we’ll postpone the wedding,’ Edie said at once. It was due to be on the Saturday.

‘No!’ Janet protested. ‘Don’t do that. That would be awful.’

‘But we can’t have it the day after the funeral!’

Janet looked thoughtfully at Martin for a moment. ‘No, I think you should carry on. Think what Mom would have said if you’d talked about putting it off!’

Edie smiled wanly, imagining Frances getting going on the subject of death being a natural part of life. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’

Those two days – funeral, then wedding – felt to Edie like a see-saw of emotions. On the Friday morning, before the funeral, she received a letter from David. She was already dressed and ready when it arrived, in her best green and white dress that she knew Frances especially liked. David’s letter had a slightly agitated air about it. He wrote partly to congratulate Edie on her marriage to Anatoli, saying how delighted he was, what a marvellous thing it seemed that she had found happiness by meeting someone through the links which already connected him to herself. She smiled, tears welling in her eyes as she read his warm words, his attempts always to make her feel loved and appreciated. But reading on, her face sobered.

‘Oh . . .’ Edie let out a long, groaning sigh and handed the letter to Janet. Janet read it and looked across at her soberly.

‘There’s nothing whatever I can do, is there?’ Edie said. ‘I’ve very little money, although I’d give them whatever I can spare.’

Janet shook her head. ‘Poor David. He’s right – it is going to be a struggle. But we mustn’t disapprove.’

‘I just wish I could see him,’ Edie said desperately. ‘And her! I mean that’s my grandchild she’s carrying – sort of!’

Janet gave an ironic smile. ‘The begetting of children is a real game of dice, isn’t it?’

Edie found herself thinking about this as they made their way to Frances’s funeral: all the ties she had in her life, her rag-bag family who were nothing to do with blood but everything of love and steadfastness. Ties with Frances, Janet, David, Anatoli. And in a way, with Gerda Mayer, and with the fragile German man who was David’s father, Hermann Mayer. Now, with Gila’s pregnancy, they would soon have a grandchild in common.

It was a grey, windy day, suitably desolate for death and goodbyes. The Friends gave Frances a peaceful goodbye, witnessing about her life, her goodness, in the Meeting they held for her. Then the family stood around the grave in the wind, holding their hats on, each parting with Frances in their own way. Edie scattered her bunch of freesias on the coffin, sweet-smelling yellows, purples and white. She followed behind Janet and Robert, with Martin and Robert’s wife Marian, having said her goodbyes quietly, with love and gratitude.

The next morning they were all up early, decorating St Francis’s church, on the Green, for the wedding. Anatoli’s family had left the Russian Orthodox Church and joined the Church of England soon after they arrived in the country and he was keen to be married in church.

After all the events of the week, Edie felt very emotional when she saw Anatoli waiting for her as she walked up the aisle. How long ago her first wedding seemed! And how much deeper and more full her feelings now. Her dress was very pretty, in cream, calf length with lacy neck sleeves, her hair pinned up and a tiny veil fastened to it. Janet and Ruby, her two matrons of honour, each wore matching lilac frocks.

Edie had never seen Anatoli looking so spruce, in a black suit, hair trimmed and immaculately tidy. He stood very straight, his dark eyes searching her out along the aisle. Her heart full of tenderness for him, Edie walked side by side with her father, to join him at the altar. When she reached him he grasped her hand and they exchanged tremulous smiles.

She walked out beaming on his arm, into a day which was warmer and sunnier by far than the previous one. Ruby, Janet and the others showered them with rice and confetti and, tears wiped away now, Edie laughed and flung her arms round Anatoli’s neck. They lined up for photographs, and afterwards all walked happily back across the Green to the house. Soon everyone was tucking into a good lunch. It was even warm enough to open the back door and spread out on to the grass. Mrs Jones next door had iced the cake, and Anatoli had insisted on contributing some champagne – ‘They may have no pubs here, but I’m not getting married without a drink!’ – and they all toasted Edie and Anatoli over the cake.

Edie was glad that her dad had come along, though she knew Dennis would have been happier with a pint in his hand. He and Rodney and some of the other guests drifted off after a decent interval, but the others stayed on, taking chairs out on to the lawn in the warm afternoon. Janet laid a rug on the grass and Naomi and Ruth sat playing with a few old toys.

‘It’s marvellous when they’re too young to move about, isn’t it?’ Ruby carried her plate over and sat with Janet, watching them. ‘You wait – you’ll be chasing them round everywhere in a few weeks!’

‘Oh, I know,’ Janet laughed. ‘Look at their faces – there’s just mischief written all over them! This is the calm before the storm!’

‘What’s the calm before the storm?’ Edie came over, and they both smiled up at her.

‘Ruby was saying I’ll soon be run ragged chasing these two. D’you know, twins can move in six different directions at once!’