Memories of You (9 page)

‘I hoped that we would all remain together.'

‘Oh, my dear, I do understand, but the alternative might have been an orphanage where you still might have been separated. And you would probably have had to leave school and find employment.'

Helen stared down at the desk. ‘If there had been any way for us to stay in the house I would gladly have left school and worked to keep us together.'

‘If your mother could hear you say that she would be most distressed.'

Helen looked up in astonishment. ‘Are you saying that my mother would not want us to remain a family?'

‘No, my dear, I'm sure she would have wished for that if it were possible, but she would be heartbroken to think that you had to leave school. She was so proud when you passed the scholarship and she was determined that you should have a good education. You know that is true, don't you?'

‘Yes . . . I do.'

‘I want you to know that if you play your part I will do all I can to help make your mother's dream come true.'

Helen did not know what to say. She had always liked and respected Miss Forster but she had never known her to breach the necessary barrier between teacher and pupil before. And now that she looked at her she realized that Miss Forster herself seemed discomforted by the moment of intimacy and was retreating quickly to her customary position behind a barricade of stiff formality.

‘Very well, Helen,' she said in a more matter-of-fact way, ‘you had better go and enjoy what is left of break time. No doubt Eileen will be waiting for you.' Miss Forster rose and left the classroom swiftly and Helen followed reluctantly. She knew Eileen would be waiting for her and that she would offer sympathy and support, and she didn't yet know how to cope with that.

Fortunately Eileen sensed her mood and was happy just to walk with her around the schoolyard in the short time they had left. The girls, subdued by the miserable weather, were all muffled up in their coats and scarves. Small snatches of conversation were muted by the oppressive dampness and there was none of the usual animated gossip and laughter. Everyone seemed glad when the bell summoned them back for the rest of the morning session.

At lunchtime they hurried home and as soon as the last girl had left the building the door was shut behind them. Helen had managed to avoid Eileen in the crush; she had no desire to explain her lunch arrangements. She guessed that her friend would probably feel sorry for her and she would have had to explain that there was no need to be. Ninepence would buy her a much better lunch than anything served up by Eva in the dismal confines of Aunt Jane's kitchen.

There was a row of shops not far from the school with a small café tucked between a baker's and a greengrocer. When Helen entered in her school uniform she attracted curious glances. She wasn't quite sure what to do. Should she go to the counter to order or should she sit and wait at a table? As she stood there uncertainly a waitress pushed past with a loaded tray and said somewhat impatiently, ‘Take the table over there. Look at the menu and I'll be with you in a tick.'

Helen was pleased and surprised to see what her ninepence would buy her. She decided on a plate of shepherd's pie and peas followed by a cup of tea, and there would still be a few pennies change – unless she decided to have a pudding. When the waitress had taken her order she looked around at the other tables. Many of the other customers were young women who looked like clerical staff. They wore inexpensive but smart outfits with fashionable little hats perched on bobbed permed hair.

Most of them chatted cheerfully but one or two were more subdued as if they had a lot to think about. One girl in particular only picked at her food and kept glancing at her watch then looking out of the window. Helen found herself imagining what story lay behind the anxious expression on the young woman's face. Different scenarios presented themselves to her imagination. Influenced by the romantic books and films her mother had so enjoyed, she decided the most likely cause of the young woman's distress would be a man, a sweetheart who she suspected had abandoned her. Or perhaps it was more sinister than that; had she stolen something at work – money . . . secret plans – and was fearful that the police might arrive at any minute to arrest her?

Maybe she would write a story about the girl and invent a satisfying ending to the tale . . .

When the waitress arrived with her plate of shepherd's pie Helen was smiling at her own fanciful ideas, but the harassed woman took it as a cheery greeting and smiled in return. ‘There you are, pet,' she said. ‘I hope you enjoy it.'

Suddenly Helen realized that despite all the grief she had suffered since her mother had died, and the pain caused by being separated from her sister and brothers, she had begun if not to enjoy at least to appreciate the new situation she found herself in. Her aunt's ninepence a day would buy her a strange but precious kind of independence.

‘Which one are you?'

Joe woke to the echo of the question that Ginger had asked him in the middle of the night. But this time there was a hint of menace in the voice. He opened his eyes and sat up quickly to find Tod Walker standing over Danny's bed.

‘Why do you want to know?' Joe asked before Danny had a chance to answer.

‘Stands to reason,' he said. ‘Got to know who I'm talking to. And in this case I want to know who it was who took my piece of cake. But whatever your name is,' he turned to stare at Joe, ‘I'm guessing it was you.'

‘What makes you think that?'

‘Because you're the cocky one.' He indicated Danny with a sideways nod of the head. ‘He's the softy.'

Joe suppressed an angry retort. Tod sounded pleased with himself – and that was bad, wasn't it?

‘Yes, I reckon this one,' he pointed a thumb over his shoulder, ‘wouldn't have dared take that last piece of cake. Not when I said it was mine.'

‘Is that what this is about? A flipping bit of cake, you big greedy baby? Now go away and leave my brother and me alone.'

Joe had been unable to conceal his scorn. He was aware of an air of shock: it was as if everyone had breathed in simultaneously, leaving the dormitory airless. Then the tension eased and somebody giggled, and another boy laughed out loud. Tod Walker, his eyes blazing in his pasty face, turned round furiously and surveyed the watching boys. They fell silent. Someone coughed nervously. No one, not even Ginger, could look Tod in the eyes.

One by one the boys turned away and began to get dressed and make their beds. Tod Walker stood glowering for a moment, fists clenched, then turned to Joe and said, ‘Think you're clever, don't you? Well, you're not. Just wait and see.'

Joe's fists were clenched as he watched Tod walk away. Danny got out of bed and touched him on the shoulder. ‘Forget it,' he said. ‘No harm done.'

‘He's trouble.'

‘I know, but I can look after myself. Really I can.'

Joe turned to look at his more gentle brother. He doubted that very much, but he didn't want to undermine Danny's confidence by saying so. ‘Of course you can.' He forced a grin. ‘Now let's get dressed and get these beds made, then we can see what they serve up for breakfast here.'

Joe watched the others surreptitiously and saw how neatly they made the beds. Danny and he had never made their bed at home. They had simply pulled down the covers to air the sheets and someone – their mother or Helen – tidied their room and made the bed for them.

‘That won't do. That won't do at all.'

Joe turned from his struggle with the bedclothes to see Ginger watching him.

‘Why not?'

‘Because it's like the army here. Or a hospital. Have you ever heard of hospital corners? Here, I'll show you.'

Ginger took over and soon had Joe's bed looking neat and tidy. Then he turned to help Danny but was surprised to find that Joe's brother had already finished.

‘Not bad,' Ginger said. ‘You're catching on quick.'

All the while they had been talking Joe was aware that they were being watched. And now a group of boys hurried down the dormitory towards them, seized the bed covers on his and Danny's bed and pulled them off, throwing them to the floor.

The lads ran off laughing, then Tod Walker strolled towards them. ‘Oh, dear,' he said. ‘You'll have to do that all over again.'

Joe clenched his fists in fury. ‘Pathetic,' he said. ‘You're just pathetic.'

Tod raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? That's what you think? Well, you'll just have to find out how
pathetic
I am, won't you? Now clear off, Ginger. Leave your new friends to sort this out themselves.'

For a moment it looked as though Ginger might defy Tod but Joe shook his head slightly and Ginger backed away.

Tod laughed and followed him out of the dormitory. At the door he turned and said, ‘You'd better not take too long about it. Those who are late for breakfast don't get any.'

Joe was so angry that he was all fingers and thumbs as his mother used to say, and it was Danny who made both beds. ‘Don't let him get to you,' he said. ‘That's just what he wants.'

‘I know. Don't worry. We'll just have to outsmart him.'

With the beds made they hurried along the landing to the stairs and as they went down Joe was relieved to see that the orderly queue of boys was still filing into the dining room. They were the last in and when they took the only two seats remaining they found that Tod Walker was sitting directly opposite. Joe was pretty sure that Tod had arranged that somehow but it made him all the more determined that he wouldn't get the better of him.

 

When Elsie woke up she stretched an arm across the bed and was surprised to find that she was alone. Helen must have got up early to help with the breakfast, she thought. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep but soon a gentle crackling sound began to puzzle her. It was the sound of coals burning in the grate. She frowned. They had never had a fire in their bedroom. And during the bitter winter months, even with Helen to hold her close, she had always felt cold.

Now she was warm, warm as toast, and the bedclothes didn't just smell clean as they did at home, they smelled of flowers as well. For of course she wasn't at home with Helen and her brothers. The beautiful lady, Mrs Partington, had brought her here and as far as Elsie could understand it she wanted her to stay here. Forever.

‘Hello, sleepyhead.'

Elsie looked up to see Mrs Partington standing over her. She gave a start of surprise.

‘Oh, darling, did I frighten you? I came in quietly so that I wouldn't disturb you. But now that you're awake, shall we have breakfast together? I'll ring for Susan. Now just this once I'm going to help you get dressed.'

Elsie sat up. ‘I can put my own clothes on. I do every morning.'

‘Of course you can, Elise, but Susan will help you in future. That's the way we do things. And this morning I want to help you myself. I want to dress you in your nice new clothes. First of all put on this sweet little dressing gown while we go along to the bathroom.'

By the time they came back from the bathroom a small table had been placed before the fire and Susan had just finished laying out the breakfast.

‘Here we are,' Mrs Partington said brightly. ‘Eggs and toast soldiers. Will you like that?'

‘Yes.'

‘Yes, what, darling?'

‘Yes, thank you.'

‘Good girl. It won't take you long to learn proper manners.'

Elsie was embarrassed. She would have liked to have told Mrs Partington that she already knew how to say please and thank you, that her mother had always insisted on proper manners and that it was her own fault that she hadn't remembered them this morning, but Mrs Partington had turned her attention to the table.

‘Very good, Susan,' she said. ‘Just bring a pot of coffee for me. Now, Elise, keep your dressing gown on while you eat your breakfast, we don't want everything to go cold, especially the milk. I used to hate that when I was a little girl.'

‘You hated milk?'

‘No, sweetheart, I meant I hated the skin that formed on the top if you left the milk too long. Now come along, let's enjoy our first morning here together.'

While Elsie started on her breakfast Susan returned with a pot of coffee for Mrs Partington. She was followed into the room by Mr Partington.

‘So, I'm to breakfast alone,' he said.

Although he was smiling there was something about his tone that made Elsie look at him anxiously. Was he cross?

‘Oh, Hugh, don't be peevish,' Mrs Partington said. ‘You often breakfast alone simply because you insist on getting up at such an unearthly hour to get to the office.'