Darkest Before Dawn (22 page)

Once or twice, Evie had asked her mother why Seraphina was so difficult now, so different, too. She thought that it might have something to do with their father's death, but Martha had shaken her head. ‘It isn't that so much as the fact that she's growing up and having to take responsibility for her own actions, but when things don't go right for her she's still child enough to want to find someone to blame,' she had explained. ‘When we lived aboard the
Mary Jane
, Seraphina had few responsibilities and most decisions were taken either by her pa or by myself. Now she's in a responsible job, earning good money. She worries that Angie ought to be doing work which uses her talents, and she worries that I'm at the beck and call of the Wilmslows, people she despises. She wants to train as a teacher yet she's afraid that she'll find it hard to manage without her salary from the restaurant. Then there are the young men who are forever turning up on our doorstep, or waiting for her when she comes out of the restaurant at night. They make her feel she's beautiful and important, which is nice, but they also make her feel that she should choose one of them. I think part of the trouble is that Pa and I guarded both Seraphina and Angela too closely. We kept them young by making all their decisions for them, never giving them responsibility. Why, even teacher training college was your pa's idea; Seraphina just fell in with it because she was sure Harry knew best.'

So now Evie answered Toby's question, since her sister appeared not to have heard it. ‘Angie will be in quite soon now,' she said. ‘She often works late but she always lets Mam know and she hasn't done so today.' She turned to her sister, emerging from the pantry. ‘Did you have a good day, Fee? I know you're always busy but—'

Seraphina was saved from having to reply by the opening of the door. Angie and Martha came into the kitchen together, laughing and talking as they did so. Angie's face flushed a delicate pink when her eyes fell on Toby, but she greeted him composedly and Martha was frankly overjoyed. She flung her arms round him and gave him a big hug and a smacking kiss on the cheek. ‘But why haven't you written to us?' she enquired plaintively, though Evie was sure that her mother knew the answer to that question. ‘Seraphina read us a couple of letters that you'd sent but then you stopped writing.'

Toby began to mumble that he was awful sorry he had been a poor sort of friend, but Martha shook her head fondly at him. ‘What's past is past,' she said, with all her usual generosity. ‘And fancy you coming to see us when I've no doubt you've a thousand better ways to spend your time. Evie said she sent you along to the restaurant; what did you think of it, eh? I'm really proud of the way both girls have found work and stuck to it, though I know it isn't what either of them would have chosen. And how are you getting on, Toby? And your family, of course. Do you see much of them? I suppose Ned and Phil are both in work now?'

Evie saw Toby blink as her mother fired these questions, but he replied easily that his brothers were indeed both working, one on the canal and one for the railways, that his parents were well as was the rest of his family, though he saw little of them since his job as the only porter at a small country station meant that he had little time off. ‘But in fact, the reason I came to see you today was because I may not be at my station much longer,' he said and Evie saw how his glance flew to Seraphina on the words and how Seraphina would not meet his eyes, but continued to lay the table as though to make her indifference plain to the whole world.

Martha was lifting the casserole out of the oven and carrying it carefully across to the table as he spoke. She was concentrating on the job in hand and did not immediately reply, so Evie dived into the breach. ‘Not staying at your station? Are they going to make you an engine driver or something, then?' she enquired breathlessly. Long ago, when she had only been four or five, Toby had occasionally given her a ‘seater' on his rusty old bicycle when he had overtaken her walking into the nearest village. As they jogged slowly along, he had often told her how he meant to be an engine driver when he grew up.

Now, however, Toby laughed at the suggestion. ‘No, no, nothing so exciting,' he assured her, and once again Evie saw his eyes flicker hopefully towards Seraphina. She felt really cross with her sister; surely she must be interested in the doings of such an old and trusted friend? But apparently she was not, or, if she was, did not intend to admit it. Evie sighed to herself; if this is what happens when you grow up, then I don't think I'm going to enjoy it much, she thought, and turned with real interest to Toby.

‘I want to make some enquiries about the army,' he said. ‘I want to know if they would teach me how to drive and service vehicles. Then, if war does come . . .'

Evie stared at him, aghast. Of course she had heard folk talking, even her teacher at school talked about it, but, so far as she knew, none of these talkers ever actually did anything. And now, she realised, Toby had got Seraphina's attention at last, for her sister was staring at him, wide-eyed. Evie began to speak, to say that the army might send him away, to Scotland, or to Wales somewhere, but Seraphina cut across the words almost before they were out of her mouth. ‘There isn't going to be a war. There can't be,' she said wildly. ‘I'm going back to teacher training college and I couldn't do that if there's a war on. You're just warmongering, Toby Duffy.'

Evie saw dark red colour rush up Toby's face and would have leapt to his defence, but Martha beat her to it. ‘Don't be so silly, Seraphina,' her mother said tartly, with a real edge to her voice. ‘Toby is absolutely right and everyone knows it, except you, apparently. It isn't a question any longer of “if” but rather of “when”. Why, if you don't know that Britain can't go on letting Hitler gobble up Europe, then you must be foolish indeed.'

It was Seraphina's turn to blush. Evie waited for an outburst of self-justification, but it seemed that Martha's biting tone had had its effect, for Seraphina merely said: ‘Sorry, Ma. Sorry, Toby. You're both absolutely right, of course. It's just that I hate the thought of war, and bombs falling, and maybe the invasion they all talk about. I suppose I'm a coward, really, because whenever a customer mentions war I make some excuse and move away. And I don't read the frightening bits in the
Echo
, either; I mean there's nothing I can do about it, is there? So I might as well ignore it, keep my head down and hope it goes away.'

‘No, that's not the right attitude at all, Fee,' her mother said gently. ‘If everyone talked like that, where would our army, navy and air force be? They'll need all the young men they can get, as they did in 1914, and young women, too, this time. Now, that's enough talking for the time being or we'll never get our food eaten whilst it's hot.' As she spoke, she had been dishing up, and now she indicated that they should all sit down and listen to Angie, whose turn it was to say grace.

The blessing over, no one spoke until Martha signalled them to start eating, and then it was Martha herself who broke the silence. ‘I suppose you youngsters will want to go off to the cinema, or the theatre, when the meal is over?' she said brightly. ‘Since you're working at a country station, I don't suppose you get many opportunities to go the pictures, do you, Toby?'

Toby shook his head and darted a quick look at Seraphina, who stared fixedly down at her plate. She isn't just cross with Toby, she's cross with herself as well, Evie thought. Ma doesn't often tell her off and she's blaming Toby for showing her up. Silly girl . . . but I expect she'll unbend presently and agree to go to the cinema with him.

However, Seraphina said nothing but continued to eat steadily, so Evie spoke up. ‘I'd love to go to the flicks,' she said. ‘There's ever so many picture houses to choose from. What about you, Angie? You like the cinema.' She dared not ask Seraphina, though she was tempted to do so.

Martha laughed. ‘You aren't going anywhere, young lady, not with school starting tomorrow,' she said firmly. ‘I meant Seraphina – and Angie, of course.'

Before either girl could answer, Toby smiled at his hostess. ‘It's a grand idea, Mrs Todd,' he said, and there was real regret in his voice. ‘But I'm afraid I shall have to go straight to Lime Street when supper's over and catch a train back to Leeds. I'm awful sorry, but next time I come into the city, mebbe we could all go out somewhere and I'll arrange to stay over. There's cheap lodging houses down by the docks and more near the station, I believe.'

Evie stared at him, opening her mouth to remind him – as if he could have forgotten – that he had booked a room for himself for tonight, but even as her eyes met his she read the warning flickering there, and closed her mouth again. She looked down at her plate and carefully scooped some potato on to her fork, before saying brightly: ‘Well, I dare say Mam won't mind if I walk to the station with you, Toby. It isn't a long walk so I can be back well before my bedtime.' She turned to her sisters. ‘Do you want to come? Fee? Angie?'

‘I've got homework to do,' Seraphina said shortly. Evie could have shaken her. Her sister was doing evening classes, she knew that, but they had never interfered with Seraphina's pleasure before. It was clear to Evie that the classes were just a useful excuse and that the homework was just another way of punishing Toby.

However, she said nothing, but turned her gaze on Angela, who blushed. She shot a look at Toby under her thick blonde lashes, and when she spoke her voice was hesitant. ‘I – I could do with some fresh air; I'd like to come.'

When the meal was over and the time had come for Toby to leave, Martha gave him a hug, half a fruit cake and a number of messages for his mother, since the two women had always been on good terms. Then she waved the threesome off.

They were passing the shop front when there was a patter of feet behind them and Seraphina caught them up. Evie noticed how Toby's eyes lit up as he turned impulsively towards her eldest sister, clearly hoping that she had changed her mind and would accompany them to the station after all. However, this was not the case. ‘I've got to go along to the telephone box to make a call,' Seraphina said breathlessly. ‘It's about the homework for my evening class. So I thought I'd walk with you, just as far as the box.'

The eager animation died out of Toby's face. He tried to chat naturally to the girls as they walked, but when Seraphina left them to take her place in the short queue waiting for the telephone, Evie thought he actually looked almost relieved. Pretending not to mind that Seraphina had clearly not forgiven him must have been extremely hard for him and Evie was pleased to see how he relaxed once her eldest sister had gone. He linked his left arm with Angela and his right arm in Evie's, apologising when his Gladstone bag banged against her legs, and the three of them soon recaptured the old familiarity. Toby told them stories about his family and the station at which he worked; Evie told him some of the antics she and Percy got up to, and Angie described her friend Annabel, who shared her interest in needlework and knitting, and was coming over to the flat later that evening with a sewing pattern she had promised to lend her. In fact, so at ease did they become that Toby confessed to Angela that he had booked a room for the night in a lodging house on Great Nelson Street. He also admitted that he had intended to cancel the room and go straight home on the next train, but no longer wanted to do so if the girls would promise not to say anything to Seraphina.

‘I don't blame her for being angry with me because I treated her badly,' he said. ‘But I've come a long way to see you all and I hoped she might let bygones be bygones.' He looked shyly from Evie to Angie. ‘Mrs Todd had a quiet word with me whilst you were getting your coats on. She said – she said I must come again and not fret over Seraphina. She said there had been so much unhappiness and upset and Seraphina was at a difficult age and worried, furthermore, about her career. She said to leave it for three or four months and then come again, and she was sure my reception would be very different. I mean to write to all of you every single week, from now on, and perhaps, you never know, it – it might help to show Seraphina that I'm truly sorry.'

Evie tightened her lips; she felt really annoyed with Toby. How could he be so feeble when Seraphina had shown him so plainly what she thought of him? And what about poor Angela? It had never before crossed Evie's mind that her second sister had a weakness for Toby, but now she saw that this was so. Angela's eyes softened whenever they fell on Toby's curly head, and when he spoke to her and she answered, faint colour rose in her cheeks and her eyes brightened. Evie felt desperately sorry for her, because she was certain that Toby had never even considered Angela as anything but the sister of his beloved. Furthermore, she did not think that Angela was right for Toby; she was far too meek, far too biddable. And Toby must have known it. Evie was pretty sure he had not noticed Angela's admiration and she hoped that her sister would not be hurt when she realised she stood no chance with him.

They reached Great Nelson Street and Toby bade them a formal goodbye, telling them that he intended to spend the evening in the nearest cinema and saying, rather wistfully, that it would have been nice if they could have accompanied him. ‘But your ma made it pretty plain that she wanted you back home for your usual bedtime,' he said to Evie. ‘And if I kept you out late, she'd worry most dreadfully. As for you . . .' he smiled at Angela, ‘you've already made plans for the evening. But thank you very much for walking me back to my lodgings.' He turned away from them with a cheerful wave. ‘See you in three or four months and don't forget to keep an eye out for the postman. You might even drop me a line now and then, to let me know how things are progressing.'