Down an English Lane (37 page)

And what of her love life? Thinking of Archie led her thoughts automatically to Bruce. She knew that his marriage had come to grief, but that news, strangely enough, had not caused her to indulge in wild imaginings. She had scarcely seen him over the past few years. Their visits home had rarely coincided, and when they did they had not sought each other’s company, except to say hello and exchange a few pleasantries. Her infatuation with Bruce, which she had convinced herself it must have been, now seemed ‘long ago and far away’, as the words of the song said.

‘Have you got a boyfriend down there in York? (or Leeds),’ people asked her whenever she went back home. Or ‘Are you courting yet?’

‘No…’ she would answer. ‘I’m far too busy…’

She had been out with one or two young men. Olwen’s son, Mike, had taken her to the pictures recently and was anxious for another date. He was nice enough, but she was not sure about him. And in York she had been friendly with one of the tour drivers, until she had discovered he was married; and she had had a ‘fling’ with another booking clerk who had joined the staff for six months. But there had been nobody so far who had ignited a spark of anything but friendship and liking; certainly not love or the feeling that, ‘This is right; he is the one for me.’

She was young and happy and fulfilled in her work and, as her mother kept reminding her, she had ‘all the time in the world to think about marriage.’ Her mother, in fact, was very proud of Maisie’s achievements. She had not reached the scholastic heights that she could have attained, but she had worked hard and made great progress in the career she had chosen, and that was enough for Lily, and enough for Maisie, too, at the moment.

By mid-morning a pale sun had followed the early rain and the last vestiges of grubby slush and snow were fast melting in the gutters. It had been a quiet sort of morning in the office with no more than a handful of customers. Olwen had gone through to the little kitchen at the back to make the coffee, and Barry was busy sorting out a pile of invoices, so it was Maisie’s turn to attend to the couple who had just entered the shop.

The woman was quite young and very smartly dressed; what Maisie still in her own mind termed as ‘posh’, a favourite word from her childhood when the difference between herself and ‘posh’ folk had been very marked. She was wearing a fur coat – rich brown fur, though of which kind Maisie was not sure; she was not well up in furs, but she did not think it was mink – and a small red hat with a long feather sticking through it. Her long and slender legs were clothed in the sheerest nylon stockings,
and her red leather shoes had pointed toes and ridiculously high heels for such inclement weather. Or maybe they had parked their Rolls or some such car not far away, Maisie wondered?

As for the man, he looked as though he might be what was known as a ‘spiv’. His grey pin-striped suit, reminiscent of the old demob suits, but of a much better quality, had a long narrow-lapelled jacket with broad shoulders, after the American style. He wore a trilby hat perched on the back of his longish dark hair. All this Maisie noticed in the first minute or so as the couple approached her. Then she looked at the woman’s face, at her golden-blonde hair, beautifully coiffured, her red lips – painted, but not gaudily – and her silvery-grey eyes. It was the eyes that Maisie remembered…

She and the woman both spoke at the same time.

‘Christine! It is Christine, isn’t it?’

‘Maisie…well, fancy that! You are Maisie, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I’m Maisie,’ she replied, smiling a little uncertainly at the woman she had thought of, at one time, as her adversary. But there was no look of hostility there now in Christine’s lovely grey eyes, only friendliness and surprise. ‘It’s…it’s good to see you again, Christine. It’s been a long time…’

‘It certainly has. It must be – what? – about five years since I last saw you. But you haven’t changed very much; you’re a lot more grown-up, of course.’ She turned to the man at her side. ‘Darling, this is
Maisie… Jackson, isn’t it? She used to live up in Middlebeck, and what a surprise it is to find her down here. Maisie, this is Clive; Clive Broadbent, my fiancé.’

Maisie shook hands with the man and they exchanged ‘How do you dos?’ He was quite good-looking, she thought, in a flashy sort of way, but considerably older than Christine, she guessed…or Bruce, of course. His close-set eyes reminded her of Stewart Granger.

‘So…what are you doing here, Maisie?’ asked Christine. ‘Working, obviously, I can see that… Have you been down here long?’

‘I’ve been in Leeds for six months,’ replied Maisie. ‘Before that I was in York, working for Galaxy Travel. Actually… I’m the manageress here,’ she added, unable to hide the touch of pride in her voice.

‘Are you, by Jove? Good for you,’ said the man, Clive. And Christine, too, to give her her due, did not stint with her praise.

‘Well done, Maisie! That’s a great achievement, isn’t it, at your age? You can’t be more than… How old are you now? Let me see; eighteen, nineteen…?’

‘I’ll be twenty in May,’ said Maisie, a little abruptly. Was there a slightly patronising tone in Christine’s words? Or maybe she had just imagined it… ‘So, what can I do for you, Christine? Did you want to make a booking, or is it just an enquiry?’ she asked in a businesslike voice. Bruce had not
been mentioned, and she saw no reason to bring him into the conversation if Christine did not do so. She surreptitiously glanced at the young woman’s left hand when she removed her gloves. Her ring was a huge solitaire diamond; much grander, no doubt, than the ring that Bruce had once bought for her. Maisie had never seen that one, though; she had not wanted to know.

It was Clive Broadbent who answered. ‘Yes, we would like to book train tickets to London, if you please, Miss Jackson. We could go to the station, of course, but I happened to notice when I was passing the other day that there was a travel agency here.’

‘We haven’t been living in Leeds very long, you see,’ Christine added. ‘Only a couple of weeks, which is why we haven’t seen this place before. We have just moved into a new house at Headingley, haven’t we, darling? And Clive has recently opened a new warehouse here. He’s in the retail business, you see…’

Maisie nodded. She had guessed at something of the sort, but she mustn’t misjudge the fellow; his dealings were probably all above board.

‘And Christine and I are going to tie the knot,’ said Clive, grinning at his fiancée. ‘Aren’t we, darling? I’m going to make an honest woman of her. The last Saturday in February, that’s the time; Leeds Register Office, that’s the place… And then we’re off to London for our honeymoon.’ They looked at one another lovingly.

It was as though there had never been any Bruce, thought Maisie. But she was startled to realise that that fact meant very little to her any more.

‘Very nice, congratulations,’ she said. ‘Of course I can book the tickets for you. What time of day do you want to travel…?’ She checked the times and the dates and issued the appropriate travel vouchers. Clive paid with a crisp five pound note.

‘How about your accommodation?’ she enquired. ‘Or has that already been arranged?’

‘Yes, it has for sure,’ replied Clive. ‘We’ve booked in at the Strand Palace. Honeymoon suite, no less, for five nights. We always stay there when we go to the city, don’t we, darling?’

‘Yes…’ she replied, smiling coyly at him, ‘but this will be the first time in the honeymoon suite.’

‘We will know where to come now for any travel arrangements we need,’ said Clive. ‘Thank you, my dear, for all your help.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ added Christine. ‘And all the best for the future, Maisie dear. I’m sure you will continue to do well… You found that Middlebeck was too small for you, did you? There’s not much scope there, is there, for a bright girl like you?’

Maisie felt a little miffed. ‘I didn’t exactly outgrow it,’ she answered, ‘if that’s what you mean, but this opportunity came along and so I took it. But Middlebeck is still home to me.’

‘Yes, of course; there’s no place like home, is there?’ Christine’s smile was friendly enough, but
Maisie was not sure whether or not it was wholly sincere. Was there still a trace of resentment there, she wondered, a harking back to the rivalry of a few years ago? She decided it would be best to bring matters to a close. She nodded.

‘As you say; there’s no place like home… Well, it’s been nice to see you again.’ She held out her hand. ‘Goodbye, Christine… Mr Broadbent; and I wish you both every happiness.’ They all shook hands cordially and the couple left the shop.

Maisie watched them as they closed the door behind them and then walked up the street arm in arm, their heads close together. She gave a deep sigh, shaking her head in a bewildered manner.

‘What’s up, Maisie?’ asked Olwen, as she entered with a laden tray. ‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’

Maisie smiled wryly. ‘You could say that; a ghost from the recent past, but this one’s still very much alive.’

‘She’s quite a looker, that woman,’ observed Barry. ‘Friend of yours, is she?’

‘No… I never considered her to be a friend,’ replied Maisie. ‘More of an enemy,’ she added, but under her breath and not intended to be heard. ‘I must say, though, that the years seem to have improved her, in disposition, I mean. She was always good-looking, as you say, Barry.’

‘That fellow she was with looked like one o’ them spivs,’ he remarked. ‘Her husband, is he?’

‘No; her fiancé,’ she replied. Clearly he had formed the same impression of Clive Broadbent as she had. ‘Never mind them now, they’re not important.’ She doubted that she would see them in the shop again, in spite of what the man had said. ‘Come on now, it’s coffee time. Ooh, my favourite choccy biccies! Thanks, Olwen.’

‘I won’t be working this afternoon,’ Olwen reminded her. ‘I’m doing the morning instead because I’ve got a dental appointment this afternoon.’

‘Yes, that’s OK; I’ve remembered,’ Maisie nodded.

‘But our Michael said he might pop in and see you this afternoon.’ Olwen gave her a meaningful glance. ‘If you don’t want to see him again, Maisie, then tell him, please, would you…?’ She did not sound annoyed, just concerned. ‘He’s a sensitive sort of lad, and I’d rather he was disappointed sooner, rather than later, if you see what I mean.’

‘Yes, I do,’ replied Maisie thoughtfully. ‘Don’t worry, Olwen; I won’t play fast and loose with him… It’s just that I don’t feel ready yet for a serious relationship.’ And Mike Palmer, she could tell, might soon start to get too intense.

‘No, neither is our Michael, but he does take himself so seriously. You don’t mind me mentioning it, do you, Maisie?’

‘No, of course I don’t. I like Mike very much. I will go out with him again, but I’ll try to make him
see that I just want to be friends, and nothing else.’

Olwen nodded. ‘Yes, it’d be best if he could see it that way. He still has a long way to go. Another year and a half at university, and he hasn’t decided yet what he wants to do afterwards.’

Mike Palmer, Olwen’s only son – only child, in fact – was in his second year at Leeds University. He had opted to live at home rather than go to a college in another part of the country, which would have meant staying in digs or a hall of residence. Maisie thought it was a mistake and that he needed to break away from the apron strings.

When he came into the office later in the day she agreed to go with him to see the big movie,
Samson and Delilah
, which was showing at the Odeon. And then, perhaps, they could have a bite to eat later? he suggested tentatively. With his college scarf of maroon, green and white stripes slung round his neck and his short sandy hair standing on end, he looked younger than his twenty years. She was touched by the look of delight in his limpid brown eyes when she said yes to his plans. Oh dear, she thought; as his mother had warned her, she must be careful not to hurt him.

Thoughts of Christine – and of Bruce – kept invading her mind for the rest of the day. She tried to remember what she had been told about their marriage. Rebecca Tremaine had been rather guarded about the whole affair, but Maisie had gathered that Christine’s mother, who they had all
believed to be dead, had surfaced, searching for her daughter. Christine, it appeared, was not all she had seemed to be. Maisie had felt from the start that there was something odd about the girl, although she had to admit that her judgment had been biased by her feelings for Bruce. Her present fiancé seemed much more suited to her, Maisie mused.

But what of Bruce? Where was he living now and what was he doing? Was he still in the RAF? Since she had left Middlebeck she had not bothered to enquire. She did not know his whereabouts, but, although she might try to deny it, it would not be true to say that she did not care.

Chapter Twenty

M
aisie had arranged to meet Audrey on the first Saturday afternoon in March. They usually met in the arcade near to Schofield’s department store before going up to the café on the third floor to have a cup of tea or coffee and a toasted teacake. She was surprised, therefore, to receive a phone call from her friend at the office on Friday morning. She sounded anxious and in a hurry.

‘Maisie…’ she began breathlessly, ‘can you meet me this afternoon instead of tomorrow? Please, it’s very important. I’ve got something to tell you…’

‘Er…yes, I think so,’ replied Maisie. ‘Yes – of course I can.’ She was, of course, in charge of the office – the ‘boss’ – which she tended to forget. ‘Whatever’s the matter, Audrey? You don’t sound like yourself at all.’

‘I can’t tell you now. And I’ve got to go; I’m due
at a lecture. I’ll see you later then… You will come, won’t you? Three o’clock at the usual place.’

‘Yes, don’t worry; I’ll be there,’ she promised.

She arranged for Olwen and Barry to look after the office, saying that she would not be long; not much more than an hour, she hoped, although Audrey did sound to be in quite a state about something or other.

When she met her friend, who was already waiting at the arcade, she was surprised to see that she was not wearing her college scarf. University and training college students, of whom there were many in and around the city of Leeds, were proud of their colleges’ colours and usually took every opportunity to display them. Audrey was dressed in a smart tweed coat – she was always smartly turned out – and she was carrying a small weekend bag as well as her shoulder bag.

‘Oh, Maisie… I’m so glad to see you.’ She flung her arms around her friend, and Maisie was dismayed to see the glint of a tear in the corner of one eye.

‘So am I,’ she replied, giving her a hug. ‘Come on, let’s get inside out of the cold.’

They passed through the beauty department with its fragrant aroma of perfume and powder, and the haberdashery department, and went upstairs to the café. They managed to find an empty table for two, although the place was fast filling up with shoppers.

‘This is on me,’ said Maisie. ‘Coffee and a toasted teacake; OK?’

‘Yes…anything,’ replied Audrey, but she sounded quite disinterested.

‘All right; I’ll go and order, then you can tell me what’s the matter.’ Maisie went to the counter, then returned to find her friend staring down at her hands, agitatedly plucking at the loose skin around her nails; a habit she had had since childhood, especially in troubled times.

‘Now, what is it?’ asked Maisie, getting hold of her hands to stop the frenzied plucking. ‘You’ve got me worried… Are you going somewhere?’ She glanced at the travel bag at the side of Audrey’s chair.

‘To stay with you tonight…if you’ll have me,’ said Audrey, looking at her with frightened eyes. ‘I’ve told them at college that I’ve got a dental appointment this afternoon, and that afterwards I’m going home for the weekend. We’re allowed two weekends a term. But it’s not true, none of it…’ She stared at Maisie, her blue eyes brimming now with tears. ‘Maisie… I’m pregnant. I’m…I’m going to have a baby.’ Her shoulders began to shake, but she was crying silently and her voice, to Maisie’s relief, was the merest whisper. The next table was well within hearing distance, but the two middle-aged ladies seemed very busy with their own concerns and were chattering away twenty to the dozen.

Maisie could not take it in at first. ‘You’re…pregnant?’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Audrey,
are you sure?’ Her friend was so naive, or so Maisie believed, that she may well have not known, exactly, what led to pregnancy.

‘Of course I’m sure. I’ve missed two periods now,’ said Audrey. She took a deep breath, seeming to take more control of herself. ‘But I’m not going to have it. I’ve arranged to have an abortion…and I want you to help me.’

‘What?’ Maisie’s cry was much louder than she intended and the women on the nearby table looked across at her. ‘But…but you can’t!’ She leaned over the table. ‘You’re probably just late…but even if you are…having a baby…you can’t do that, what you’ve just said.’

Audrey did not answer, but kept looking at her, quite impassively now. The waitress, arriving with the coffee and teacakes, halted any conversation for a few moments. Then Maisie said, ‘Come on, tell me about it…if you want to, of course. Who was it…and how did it happen?’

Audrey gave a weak smile then. ‘In the usual way, I suppose. It doesn’t really matter who it is, because he will never know about it; but I suppose I’d better tell you… You remember I told you about that girl I know at college? Jennifer, the one that lives near Roundhay Park; she’s not a close friend, but we’re in the same division sometimes for lectures. Well, it’s her brother… But he’s engaged to be married… Oh, Maisie, it’s such a mess!’

A mess? It was a catastrophe, thought Maisie.
And that it should happen to Audrey, of all people. Maisie felt as though she was in a dream, or a nightmare to be more correct. Innocent little Audrey? She just couldn’t take it in. ‘Go on; tell me about it,’ she said.

‘There was a party at Jennifer’s home, just after New Year. They’re quite well off, they’ve got a big house near the park. She invited quite a few of us, and I went back a day early, you see, to go to this party, and I stayed the night there. And her brother and me…well we got quite friendly. And I suppose I had too much to drink, and his girlfriend wasn’t there, she’d got the flu and…well, it sort of just happened. I don’t suppose he’s thought any more about it…’

‘But what about their parents? Where were they while all this was going on?’

‘Oh, they’d gone away for a long weekend. Jennifer and Joel – that’s his name – they seem to do pretty much as they like.’

‘And what about Jennifer? Have you told her about it?’

‘No, of course I haven’t. I’ve told you, she’s not a close friend. Nobody knows but you and…well, there’s another girl at college that I told, to find out about what I could do. I was desperate, you see, and she’s generally reckoned to be – well, you know – quite genned up about…about contraceptives and abortions and things.’

Maisie blinked. She couldn’t believe what she
was hearing. She sighed. ‘Eat your teacake,’ she said. ‘It’s getting cold…’

Audrey cut her teacake in half and started to eat it and drink her coffee. They both munched in silence for a few moments, and Maisie was surprised to see that her friend appeared to be enjoying it. She guessed she had not had anything to eat since breakfast time. As for herself, she chewed automatically, not tasting what she was eating, her mind full of the awful thing Audrey had said she was going to do. Surely she couldn’t mean it? Finally she could contain herself no longer.

‘Audrey…’ she said, leaning towards her and whispering urgently. ‘You can’t do it. It would be very wrong, and dangerous, too.’

‘But I’ve no choice, have I?’ Audrey looked at her blankly.

‘Of course you have. Girls have got pregnant before. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last.’

‘Not a daughter of the rector, though… I can’t tell them, Maisie. How can I? They’d be so ashamed of me. I’m telling you, it’s the only way.’

Maisie shook her head despairingly. ‘You say…you’ve arranged it? What, exactly, have you done?’

‘It’s a place near Woodhouse Moor, a bit further on from where you live.’

‘What do you mean, “a place”? A back street abortionist?’

‘No, no; it’s not like that at all! It’s a nice house, a detached one with a garden, and it’s quite posh inside. And the woman who saw me was wearing a white coat and everything. She was very nice and helpful and she said they could take me tomorrow. Ten o’clock, that’s when I’ve got to be there. So I wondered if I could stay with you tonight? And then…would you come with me in the morning… please, Maisie?’

Audrey’s eyes were filling up with tears again and her pleading expression tore at Maisie’s heartstrings. ‘But it’s wrong!’ she said. ‘You must know it is. It’s illegal, and they could be prosecuted for doing something like that. Is he a doctor…he or she or whoever?’

‘Yes, I think so. I think it’s the woman’s husband, the one who saw me. I’ve told you, she was very kind and friendly and she said I’d nothing to worry about.’

No doubt she did, thought Maisie, feeling sick with fear and anxiety and wondering what on earth she could do to stop her friend from taking this disastrous step. ‘And…what would it cost? Did she say?’

‘Yes…ten pounds,’ said Audrey. ‘I’ve already paid. She said that was what clients usually did. So I can’t back out of it now, Maisie. I’ve got to go through with it, but I can’t go on my own. Please say you’ll come with me… You’re my best friend, aren’t you? I couldn’t possibly ask anybody else.’

Ten pounds… That was more than a fortnight’s wages to Maisie, and Audrey was only a student. But she supposed that Patience and Luke did not leave her short of money. They would be horrified, though, if they knew what it was being used for. She shook her head again. ‘It’s a lot of money,’ she said, ‘but it’s not the money that’s important, is it? It’s you that matters. Oh, come on, Audrey; just think sensibly about it. It’s not the end of the world. Luke and Patience are not ogres. They’re understanding people and…’

‘No, no, no!’ cried Audrey. ‘I can’t possibly tell them.’ Luckily the two women at the next table had gone and there was something of a lull in the restaurant. ‘This time tomorrow it will all be over. I keep telling myself that, but I can’t go through with it on my own. Please, Maisie…’ She looked at her so imploringly that Maisie felt herself beginning to relent, but only a little.

‘Well… I’ll see,’ she said. ‘But you can certainly stay with me tonight.’ She hoped that by the next morning she might have persuaded her friend to change her mind. She smiled sympathetically at her. ‘I do understand, honestly, how you feel. And it’s such hard luck, isn’t it, to get caught the first time? But it seems to happen like that with a lot of girls.’

Audrey hung her head. She was silent for a moment. Then, ‘It wasn’t the first time,’ she said, so quietly that Maisie could scarcely hear her.

‘What did you say?’ she asked. ‘For a moment I
thought you said it wasn’t the first time…’

Audrey nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what I said…’ She looked up at her friend. ‘I can’t lie to you, Maisie. It wasn’t the first time I’d…done that. You remember when I went out with Brian? We’d been going out together for a long time and…well, you know how it is, don’t you? You must do…’

Maisie looked at her in horror. ‘You what? Indeed I don’t know how it is! Do you mean to say that you and Brian Milner, that you…?’

‘Yes, we did,’ said Audrey, in quite a matter-of-fact voice. ‘Oh, come on, Maisie. Don’t pretend to me that you’re all that innocent. You went out with Ted Nixon, and he was years older than you, and I know he was dead keen on you…’

‘Yes, maybe he was, but we never did…that!’

Audrey frowned, looking at her in some surprise. ‘And you told me you went out with that coach driver, and he was married…’

‘Yes, and that was when I told him, No, ta very much. I don’t go out with married men…’

‘And there was that fellow who came to work in your office in York. You went out with him for quite a while; I remember you telling me that you had quite a fling.’

‘Yes, Colin… But when I said we’d had a fling I only meant that he used to take me to pubs and nightclubs and places like that. Not that we’d…’ She shook her head. ‘I was an innocent little girl from the country when I first went to live in York,
you know. I’d never set foot inside a pub – I wasn’t old enough anyway – and doing that sort of thing was a real eye-opener to me. But I have never done…that, not with Ted or Colin or anyone.’

‘You mean to say that you’re still…a virgin?’

‘Good God, yes!’ exclaimed Maisie, forgetting herself for a moment. ‘I mean…yes, of course I am. And I will be until I meet the person that I know is right for me. And even then, we’ve always been told that we should wait until after we’re married, haven’t we?’

‘You’re shocked at me, aren’t you?’ said Audrey, looking soulfully at her friend. ‘Honestly, Maisie, I really thought… You’re so grown-up in your ways. You were always so much more mature than me… I’m sorry if I’ve shocked you.’

‘No… I’m not really shocked,’ she replied. ‘Just surprised, that’s all.’ But she was shocked; she had found herself deeply shocked by Audrey’s revelations. This was the girl she had befriended and taken care of when they had been sent to Middlebeck as evacuees; the girl who had always seemed so shy and insecure, and so prim and proper too, at times. She remembered how she had raised her eyebrows at Maisie’s dress with the bare shoulders. And above all, Audrey was the daughter of the rector…

‘I’m surprised at Brian Milner,’ she said. She decided to give her friend the benefit of the doubt and to believe that Brian had led her on. ‘I always
thought you were just good friends; well, possibly a little bit more than that, but you decided to end it, didn’t you, when he went away to university?’

‘It was getting too intense,’ replied Audrey. ‘I was only sixteen, and I knew I shouldn’t have…you know. But I really liked Brian a lot. And since then there’s been nobody, honestly, until I got involved with Joel.’