Jenny's War (44 page)

‘What’s it say, Jen? Have you passed?’ she called excitedly, but then they all saw Jenny burst into tears, standing there in the middle of the drive, shaking and sobbing.

Georgie, followed by all the others except for Wilkins, reached her first.

‘Oh darling,’ he put his arms around her and pulled her close. ‘What is it? Is it bad news? I can’t believe it.’

‘No, no, look.’ With trembling fingers she held out the piece of paper to him. As Georgie read it, a huge grin spread across his face and then he passed the letter to Miles and Charlotte, whilst Louisa begged, ‘Tell me, please tell me.’

Felix, it seemed, didn’t need to read the letter; he was beaming from ear to ear. But in their excitement no one seemed to realize that he already knew what the letter contained.

‘She’s only gone and got the highest grades in her year,’ Georgie said. ‘That’s all.’ He picked her up and swung her round. ‘I knew you could do it.’

When they returned to the house, Miles called, ‘Wilkins, champagne all round. We’ll have a champagne breakfast. This calls for a real celebration. And open a bottle for below stairs too, won’t you?’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Wilkins gave a little bow. ‘And may I on behalf of all the staff, offer Miss Jenny our hearty congratulations.’

‘Oh thank you, Wilkins.’ And then she startled the reserved manservant by kissing him on the cheek. ‘Tell Mrs Beddows I’ll be down to see her and the others later.’

As they all sat down to breakfast, still talking excitedly, Felix said calmly, ‘Aren’t you going to open your other letter, my dear?’

‘Oh yes. I’d almost forgotten it.’

As she slit it open and read it, the colour suffused her face. She looked up and met Felix’s benign expression. ‘How – ?’

‘What is it, Jen?’ Georgie asked, but for once in her life Jenny didn’t seem to be paying him any attention. She was still staring at Felix.

‘You know, don’t you?’

He nodded.

‘But you know I can’t go.’

‘Not go?’ Felix was scandalized. ‘Of course you must go.’

The others were mystified and, strangely it was the quiet one of the family, Ben, who asked. ‘Go where, Jenny?’

But Jenny was lost in a trance, still staring at the letter she held in her trembling hands.

‘Jenny has been offered a place at the Slade in London,’ Felix explained.

Charlotte clapped her hands. ‘Oh darling, that’s wonderful!’

‘But I didn’t apply. How can I have been offered a place there when I didn’t even apply?’

Felix’s smile broadened. ‘Ah, now I might have had a bit of a hand in that. I have very close connections with the Slade, you see, and – well – I might just have mentioned that there was this remarkable pupil who was sure to get top marks in all her examinations and that she would be a most worthwhile candidate for a place there. But I promise,’ he held up his hand almost defensively, ‘that I didn’t pull any strings. I only suggested that you should be considered. You have been offered a place solely on your merits.’

‘But how do they know my work?’

Felix chuckled again. ‘My professor friend has been in touch with Lincoln. He knows all about you and has seen examples of your work.’

‘How?’

‘We-ell, he visited my gallery and – as you know – I have one or two of your paintings on show.’

‘You
know
a professor at the Slade?’

‘Of course,’ Felix waved his hand airily. ‘I know everyone in the art world who is worth knowing.’

‘But – but I can’t go. It’ll cost a fortune – especially living in London.’

‘You might be entitled to some sort of grant,’ Miles said, ‘but if not, we’ll support you, you know that.’

‘Jenny – don’t you
want
to go?’ Charlotte asked gently, guessing what was holding Jenny near to Ravens-fleet. London was a long way away from Georgie.

Jenny bit her lip and glanced down at the letter in her hand. She pulled in a deep breath, knowing that the decision she was about to make might alter the course of her life. She looked across the table into Charlotte’s deep violet eyes. She could read the love there – and the concern. Intuitively, she knew Charlotte was encouraging her to make her own life and not to miss such a wonderful opportunity by waiting around for something that might never happen. Or rather, for someone who might never love her in the way she wanted him to.

Jenny swallowed and smiled tremulously. Her voice was husky as she said, ‘Of course I want to go. But what about the expense?’

‘You can come and live with me,’ Felix offered generously. ‘At least you can live at my flat. I’m away so often, I’ll hardly notice you’re there.’

That part was true. Since the end of the war, Felix’s business had blossomed and now he travelled the world. ‘I won’t charge you a
huge
amount for your board and lodging.’ His eyes were twinkling as he added impishly, ‘Perhaps a painting now and then.’

‘I thought you said her paintings were going to be worth a fortune once day?’ Georgie said.

Felix gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Me and my big mouth.’

And so it was settled. Jenny would accept the place at the famous art school and would stay at Felix’s flat in the city during term time, coming home to Ravensfleet during the holidays.

There was only one other cloud on her bright horizon – other than leaving Georgie, of course.

‘I suppose,’ she said slowly. ‘I shall have to visit my mother.’

To this no one made any answer; that decision was entirely Jenny’s.

Leaving Ravensfleet was hard and she shed a few tears at the station when Miles and Charlotte waved her off. But once term started, Jenny found she was so busy that she hadn’t time to brood, although not a day went by that she didn’t think about Georgie and all of them at the manor and wonder what they were doing.

And there was no denying that she loved her life. She could never have dreamed that the scruffy little evacuee urchin could have ended up a student at the famous art college and living in a luxurious apartment nearby. When he was home, Felix insisted on expanding her education by taking her to the theatre, the ballet, the opera and, of course, every art gallery in the city. They got on well. Despite his creative talents, Felix was not a temperamental man; he was easy-going and generous. But there was one thing that he insisted she should do.

‘You should see your mother, my dear, and visit your old friends. Have you told them you’re in London?’

Jenny bit her lip and shook her head.

‘I thought not.’ He said no more, but his words had pricked her conscience. So, the following Saturday morning Jenny announced at breakfast that she would go to the East End to see if her mother was still there.

‘Haven’t you been in touch with her at all since you left?’ Felix was appalled.

‘Only through Bobby and Aunty Elsie. I’ve been writing to them. But Mum made it very clear she didn’t want anything more to do with me.’ Felix was still looking shocked. She glanced at him. Perhaps he didn’t know the full story.

‘Did – did Charlotte ever tell you what happened?’ When Felix frowned in puzzlement, she added, ‘Why I left home and – and went back to Ravensfleet.’

He shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving her face. ‘I presumed – perhaps incorrectly – that your mother had sent you back to them towards the end of the war when the doodlebugs started.’

Jenny sighed.

‘Look, if you’d rather not tell me, I’m not prying.’ But she could see that Felix was itching to know, even though he said candidly, ‘And if it’s a secret, you’d certainly better not tell me. I never could keep a secret. I’d certainly have been no good as a spy in the war.’

Jenny giggled. ‘I think you’d have made a very good one. No one would ever have suspected you.’

‘That’s true,’ Felix agreed. False modesty was not one of his strong points either.

Her face sobered. ‘I don’t mind you knowing, Uncle Felix. I – I just hope you won’t think too badly of me.’

So she told him everything and in the telling, all the nightmare of her life with Dot came flooding back. At the end of her story she was in tears and Felix felt guilty for having pressed her to tell him. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. I’m so sorry, my dear. And of course you have no duty to see your mother. Not ever again, if you don’t want to.’

She smiled through her tears. ‘No, I should go. I owe it to Aunty Elsie if not to Mum. And then there’s Bobby. I’d like to see him again.’

‘Oho, do I detect a little romance?’

Jenny shook her head and opened her mouth to explain, but then she closed it again quickly. The time for confidences was gone. If Felix couldn’t keep secrets then there was no way she was going to tell him about her feelings for Georgie. Instead she said, brightly, ‘I’m far too busy for such nonsense, Uncle Felix.’

Little did she guess that Felix knew all about her feelings for Georgie. The flamboyant artist was a better keeper of secrets than he gave himself credit for.

When she knocked on the door of the terraced house where she’d last seen Elsie and her family, she didn’t recognize the tall young man who opened it. The Hutton family must have moved. ‘I’m sorry, I thought . . .’

The young man’s mouth widened into a grin; a grin she’d have known anywhere.

‘Jen!’

‘Bobby!’

They both spoke at once and then he was stepping into the street, picking her up and swinging her round.

‘Mam,’ he hollered. ‘Just look who’s turned up like a bad penny.’

Elsie appeared in the doorway drying her hands on a towel. She stared at Jenny for a moment before recognition dawned. ‘Blimey, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, darlin’. Come on in. Have yer seen yer mum?’

Bobby set her down on the ground but grasped her hand and pulled her into the house. ‘Get the kettle on, Mam. This calls for a celebration.’

When they were seated in the small kitchen, Jenny said, ‘Where is she now? D’you know?’

Elsie nodded her head in the direction of the house at the end of the street. ‘Still there with his nibs.’

‘Oh!’

‘S’all right, Jen. If you want to see her, I’ll come with you,’ Bobby said. His grin broadened. ‘I always looked out for yer, didn’t I?’

‘You did, Bobby, and I’ll never forget it.’

‘’Ere, don’t you talk posh now? Don’t she talk posh, Mam?’

Elsie smiled. ‘She talks very nicely, Bobby, and don’t you tease her.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—’

‘Don’t you apologize, Jen. We want to hear everything. Oh, I know you’ve written letters, but it ain’t the same as hearing you tell us face to face.’

They sat around Elsie’s kitchen table until the clock on the wall struck twelve. ‘Oh look at me, yer dad’ll be home for his dinner any minute and ’ere’s me gossiping. He’ll ’ave me guts fer garters.’

But as she got up from the table, Elsie was smiling. Sid Hutton would no more harm a hair of his wife’s head than fly to the moon.

‘Your mam told me in her letters that your dad had come back safely. Is he all right?’ Jenny asked Bobby softly.

‘Yeah, right as ninepence, he was. We was lucky. Dad, Ronnie and Sammy all came back. Sammy got wounded, but he’s recovered well, though he’ll always limp a bit.’

Like Georgie, Jenny thought.

Soon all the family arrived home and the little house was filled with merry chatter and laughter. It felt as if the years dropped away and Jenny was back in the bosom of the family that had always felt like her own; more so than life with Dot had ever done. At last Sid glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and with one accord the menfolk of the household stood up.

‘Time we was going, Elsie love.’ He kissed her fondly and reached for a scarf from the peg behind the door. The boys, too, wound identical scarves around their necks. Jenny stared in amazement, until, noticing her puzzled look, Bobby laughed and said, ‘It’s the Hammers’ colours, Jen – claret and blue. Mam knitted us one each. We’re off to the match. We always go when it’s at home.’

Jenny’s face cleared. ‘Of course. How could I have forgotten?’ The memories came flooding back once more. Arthur had never missed a home match, though Jenny now wondered if his attendance hadn’t had more to do with his nefarious business activities than actually enjoying the football.

‘Hope you win.’ Jenny smiled as she and Elsie stood at the door waving them off.

Now that the house was quiet, Elsie asked seriously, ‘Are yer going down to see yer mam, Jenny?’

The girl sighed. ‘That’s what I came for, except for seeing you all, of course.’

‘Of course.’ They smiled at each other. ‘Like me to come wiv yer?’

Jenny shook her head. ‘No. Thanks all the same, but I’d best do this on me own.’

‘He’ll be at the shop this afternoon, if that’s any help.’

Jenny nodded. ‘Then I’ll go now.’ She stood up and hugged Elsie; she couldn’t put off the moment any longer.

As she walked down the street, her legs were trembling and her palms felt sweaty. It was ridiculous, she thought, feeling like this when she was only going to visit her own mother.

‘Oh, look what the cat’s dragged in.’ Dot opened the door to her knock. She hadn’t changed a bit; she was still dressed in a short skirt, her dyed blond hair brassier than ever and her make-up plastered on her petulant face even more thickly.

‘Hello, Mum. Just thought I’d – er – come and see you.’

Dot shrugged and turned away as if she really wasn’t bothered one way or the other, but she left the door open for Jenny to follow her. Entering the kitchen, Jenny glanced around her and when she saw that Donald Jenkins wasn’t there, she began to breathe more easily.

‘Did you get my letters, Mum? You never replied.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Dot said vaguely, drawing on her cigarette. ‘But I’m not much of a letter writer, Jen, you know that. And after you accused my Donald like you did, well, I didn’t really want to know.’

‘You’d believe him rather than your own daughter, would you?’ The words were said without malice or reproach; Jenny was merely stating a fact, but Dot turned on her. ‘Don’t you dare come back here in your fancy clothes and talking all posh and start that again. He’s a good man. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you’re nothing but a dirty little trollop that’s landed on her feet. So don’t you come here causing bother. I’ve got a good one in Donald, I have. He’s not a spiv like Arfer.’ She smiled maliciously. ‘The coppers come asking me about him, but o’ course I couldn’t tell them anything.’