The Geary Series Boxed Set (52 page)

Jane and Gale found an empty carriage and lifted their cases overhead to store them away. Jane shut the sliding door and sat down on the bench seat. She traced the yellow lines that were stitched into the blue material. Line after line, up and down she fingered the yellow grooves. Hundreds of men and women had sat on these seats before her. She wondered if any of them had been ostracised from their family. The carriage could take six adults, three each sitting opposite one another. The train began at Edinburgh Waverly and ended in London, the two girls sat in silence listening to the train doors slam shut. Their heads snapped up in unison as another passenger passed their carriage door. They expected to have company, but no one stopped to come in.

“Jane, are you going to keep the baby?” Gale asked her.

“Yes,” she said and stroked her stomach, “I couldn’t have an abortion, I just couldn’t.” She answered.

They fell silent once more, an hour or so passed until Gale spoke again. She handed her sister a sandwich, but she shook her head.

“What are you going to do with it?” Gale asked.

Jane’s head snapped up, “it, did you call my baby it?” she scowled at her sister, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry Jane, we don’t know which sex the baby is.” Gale offered as an explanation.

“That’s ok, my emotions are a little all over the place. I’m going to keep her, I know she’s going to be a girl. I’ve always dreamed of having a daughter.” Jane said.

“Don’t you think you should get married first?” Gale suggested.

“Who is going to marry a woman already with a child, don’t be absurd Gale, you sound like mum,” Jane answered and continued to look out of the window. The dreary overcast day, cast a shadow over her mood. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she knew that she would keep the baby, no matter what. Yesterday she had decided to give the baby away.

Gale kept quiet for the remainder of the journey to London, it was five of the longest hours Jane had spent sitting still not talking. They were fortunate not to have any other passengers with them for the whole journey. It allowed her to think about baby names and what she would call her. They travelled around London via a double-decker bus and eventually boarded their final train to Brighton. Their father had told them that his sister would meet them from the train and take them to her home.

Alighting at Brighton nearly eight hours after boarding at Edinburgh, Jane stretched her back and arms from being wedged into a seat for too long. The evening sun still high in the sky and the Seagulls squawked overhead. Jane exited the station first while Gale used the ladies before their next destination. She stood alone on the concourse outside the main doors and gazed at the ornate glass roof and intricate iron works on the edge of the roof and the black gates at the front. Men and women busily walking passed her as they went on their way. Hugs from relatives and over excited children that should be in bed happened all around her.

She felt at home, breathing in the sea air, she wanted to stay here, she felt happy. Stroking her tummy, she whispered to her little girl that they would make a home here in Brighton and live happily together until she fell in love and found a man of her own.

Gale arrived with her suitcase and stood next to her, she was grateful that she was here standing by her side. She had never met her aunt and had heard nothing about her. She didn’t know what she looked like either. They were standing at the entrance like lemons waiting for a complete stranger to give them a home.

“Gale, Jane?” a soft voice said, “Are you Jane and Gale?” she asked again.

Jane blinked up to her right, the setting sun shining in her eyes over the rooftops. It was September, but the evenings were still bright. Shading her eyes, she stood face to face with a tall, dark haired lady. She was tall and slim with warm brown eyes, her smile reassured her that she was a friend and not foe.

Gale nodded and held out her hand to shake her aunt’s hand, but instead she pulled her into a hug and then hugged Jane. She cupped both of their cheeks and smoothed her thumbs over their cheekbones.

“I’m not as stuffy as my brother, girls, come on, let’s get you home and then we can plan what will happen next in your lives.” She said.

Maria turned right outside of the black iron gates and passed the bus stop where several men smoked while waiting for the driver to finish his break and start the engine. The seagulls swooped down and picked at a discarded packet of chips. The loud squawking resonated through the square, bouncing off the walls of the houses that surrounded them.

“Let me take your case, Jane,” Maria said and manhandled the case from her hands.

“Thank you, Aunt Maria, but I can manage,” Jane said.

“Nonsense, you’re with me, now, and I will make sure that you have the most comfortable pregnancy.” She said.

Off she marched over the narrow road and up the hill. Jane stretched her neck back to see the top of the hill. It mirrored the hill up from the river up to the house she no longer lived in. She followed her aunt up the hill leaving Gale far behind. The last few weeks had given her practice of climbing steep hills and she joined her aunt at the top and waited for her sister to join them.

Panting and red-faced Gale reached the top and dropped her case on the level part of the road and bent over to recover from the hike. Jane hadn’t broken a sweat and took her sister’s case and walked with Maria over the road.

Maria’s house had two low, white stone walls at street level, either side of the tiny gate. Maria unclipped the clasp of the gate and held it open for the two girls to walk through. Ten paces later and they climbed the broad stone steps to the black front door. It was wide enough to fit both of them side by side. They allowed Maria to pass and unlock the door. Again, Maria held the door open for them to come into her home.

The narrow corridor had an array of coats hanging from hooks, underneath the coat hems sat a small table with a bowl of what looked like the bits out of handbags that were of no use. There were several sets of keys, pens, a large button with the thread still laced through it. Empty sweet wrappers and a half-eaten packet of polo mints completed the contents.

“Here is a set of keys, one for each of you, you can come and go as you please. All I ask is that if you are out after dark, please tell me when you are coming home as I’ll worry.”

Jane stared at the set of four keys that rested in her hand, she hadn’t been allowed keys at her old home. She had lost too many sets and couldn’t be trusted. She would treasure these.

“Two of the keys are for this door, one key is for the back door and the other is a key for the entrance to my workshop downstairs.” Maria said, flicking through her set and holding up each key as she explained.

The news that she had a workshop brightened Jane’s mood.

“Do you want to see it now or have something to eat? You must be starving. I have dinner in the oven warming so we have time to go and take a quick look.” Maria asked.

“We’d love to, what kind of workshop is it?” Jane asked excitedly.

“I’ll stay here, is there a sitting room I can wait in?” Gale said, her tone bordering on rude.

Jane scowled at her comment and signalled her head to come along for the viewing.

“That’s ok Jane. Gale, do you want to get settled into your room? It’s on the top floor, there are two rooms up there and a bathroom. As you are first up there, you can take your pick.”

Gale took her suitcase and began her ascent to the third floor of the house. The steady, weary stomp of Gale’s caused Jane to giggle. She hadn’t felt so invigorated than she did at that point, the freedom she assumed she had, intoxicated her.

“Come on Jane, let’s go and see what I do to earn a living. Leave your case there and we can collect when we come back.”

The corridor had a kink to the right to make room for the staircase and at the end housed a glass door. They had passed three doors, one on the left before the stairs and two on the right. All the doors were closed, her curiosity of what was behind those doors would have to wait.

A staircase of steps ran downwards under the staircase that had taken Gale upstairs. These were bare wooden floorboards. The main staircase had a red carpet runner with gold metal strips holding it snug to the steps. The staircase they were walking down had been painted different colours the whole way down. Lanterns filled with church candles lit the way along the wall above the banister. She carefully walked down the stairs behind Maria, keeping hold of the railing, the stairs were steep and her feet were sore from travelling. Reaching the bottom step, Maria pressed a light switch and the fluorescence light blinked three times before it stayed on. The square room illuminated and showed its contents.

Stepping further into the room she examined what she saw, touching the surfaces and handling the equipment. In the centre of the room stood a square wooden table, covered in splashes of wax, it was a technicolour spread. It was entirely clear. Around the edges of the room had matching benches, these were covered with candles. In all shapes and sizes and colours. Some were unfinished and some were sitting proudly waiting for a mantelpiece to sit on.

“You make candles?” Jane asked.

“Yes, it has been my business for twenty years. Nowhere in Brighton sold candles, so I learnt how to make them. My friends liked them and then word spread, it’s a thriving business. That door over there is where people come to buy them.” Maria said.

Maria pointed to a white door that had a separate bottom half to the top half. The top half was wide open, letting in the cold evening air. She could hear the chatter of her neighbours in their garden and the birds in the trees signing.

“Would you teach me?” Jane asked, soaking in the smell of beeswax.

“Of course, it would be my pleasure,” Maria said, “Come, we can talk tomorrow about business, tonight we can eat and get to know each other.”

They trooped back up the stairs and Maria blew out the candles as she followed Jane and turned the workshop light off from the switch at the top of the stairs. Opening the glass door, Jane had seen earlier, Maria invited her into her kitchen.

“Make yourself at home Jane at the table, and I’ll run up and fetch Gale.” Maria patted her arm and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so happy you’re here, I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

Jane smiled at her aunt and headed for the kitchen table that had eight mismatched chairs around it.

Jane removed her coat and hung it off the back of the chair she had chosen to sit on. She had staked her claim at the table and wandered around the room, looking in cupboards and the refrigerator.  The aroma of beef stew wafted through the air and her stomach rumbled.

“Are you hungry?” Maria asked and laughed. She reached for her oven gloves and opened the oven door, stepping back to let the hot air escape. She lifted out a casserole dish and placed it on the wooden table in the centre.

She motioned for Jane to sit while she fetched the other parts of dinner. A plate piled high of crusty chunks of bread, some butter, a jug of water and a bowl of steaming hot carrots.

“It’s beef stew,” she said and passed Jane an empty bowl and serving spoon. “Help yourself, dig in.” She encouraged.

“Is Gale coming down for dinner?” Jane asked as she ladled in two helpings of the delicious stew.

“No, she said she was tired and wanted to go to sleep,” Maria said.

They settled at the table and Jane explained the circumstances of what had brought them both to her home, including Gale not being pregnant. Maria listened and made no judgement, she held Jane’s hand as she cried and fed her apple pie once she had finished her story.

The next door neighbours were playing jazz music, recorded music streaming out of their open windows and through to the kitchen door. The hypnotic, cluttered string of notes intrigued Jane, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the melody. While she sat and studied what she was hearing, her hand stroked her belly in circles. Maria watched her niece with interest, it wasn’t too long ago that she happened to be in the same position. She hadn’t fallen pregnant, but she had been kicked out of the family. Jane’s father had disowned her as well. She had chosen Brighton as a place to set up home. The city had been described to her as lively and vibrant, a place where she wouldn’t feel alone. The advice had been perfect.

“I have a little understanding of how you may be feeling Jane. I’ll tell you a little about my life here, but first I want you to know that you will always have a home here.”

Jane opened her tired eyes, thrilled that she had discovered new musical tastes. She needed a cup of tea and made two steaming mugs, directed by Maria. The multicoloured cups hung from hooks on the back wall next to the fridge. They were giant sized and were perfect for storytelling. The steam from the cups curled up before them, waiting patiently for the tale to begin. Maria leant back on the back two legs of her chair and swiped the biscuit barrel from the counter and lifted the wooden lid. The round barrel, brown and glazed had a square motif all the way around. Jane traced the bumps of the squares while she waited for Maria to begin.

“I moved to Brighton in the early 1950s, my brother, your father, and I were inseparable as siblings.  We were pretty much left to ourselves, he is a lot older than I and took care of me. When I turned twenty-one I went to live with him, I rented his spare room after I finished University. He worked in a factory, making radios. He was a terrible cook, so I prepared our evening meals. We would spend the dinner times catching up with our lives. He didn’t date very much and neither did I. We went to the local pub and sometimes he would hook up with a girl. I’d completed my degree and was spending time doing very little until I decided which job I wanted. I had trained to be a teacher but had no desire to teach.”

Maria dunked a digestive biscuit into her tea, pensive, taking her time to tell the next part of the story. Jane covered her hand with hers and squeezed for encouragement.

“One Sunday morning, his damn cat had sat on my chest, meowing to get me up to let her out. I stumbled out of my room and opposite was the glass door to the side patio. I let the cat out, leaving the door open and was about to step back into my room when the door to my brother’s bedroom opened.”

Maria coughed to clear her throat and drank some tea.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful.”

Ignoring Jane’s suggestion, but holding her hand firmly, she continued.

“Chloe tiptoed out of my room, her dress was draped over her arm as she quietly closed the door. She had her knickers on but nothing else. I then noticed the straps hanging off her fingers. She deftly put her maxi dress on, still holding the high heeled shoes. The elastic top part of her dress had shifted around and had scrunched up. Her boobs were still showing. I’d seen them before, of course, many times. I stood and waited for her to rearrange her dress and look up. Once she did, her face turned to a mischievous grin. She kissed me soundly on the lips and then froze to the spot. She had been caught, my girlfriend had been found tiptoeing out of my bedroom by my brother.”

“Oh no, what did you do?” Jane asked.

“What any self-respecting woman would do, I stood defiantly and wrapped my arm around her waist. I knew he wouldn’t approve. We had been a couple for three years, we’d met in our first year at University and I had found my soul mate. Or so I’d thought.”

Jane sat opened mouthed, “What happened next?” Jane asked.

“He pulled me away from my girlfriend and stood in between us. I can’t say I was proud of myself at that moment, I’d lied to him. He asked for an explanation and we both started talking at once, eventually he asked me to say what was going on and I explained. I told him I liked fucking girls.”

Maria winced at her own words, she didn’t like cursing but at that moment she was so angry with her brother. She loved her and wanted a life together, even when she knew that wouldn’t be possible. The family and friends they had wouldn’t have accepted her as a lesbian. She couldn’t think of a single person who would approve.

“Blimey Maria, how did he take that news.”

“He didn’t take it very well, he kicked her out immediately. The cat had tried to sneak back in but once one paw was over the threshold, she saw what was going on and made her escape. I should have done the same. He marched into my room and roughly pulled the suitcases off my wardrobe, stuffing my clothing into the bag. He yanked the clothes I had off the hanger and used his arm to swipe all the pots and potions on my dressing table into another bag. He had packed my bags of all my personal effects in twenty minutes while I watched dumbfounded. He had walked in and out of my room carrying more bags until it was all packed. If I weren't so heartbroken, I would have been impressed. He told me I was an abomination, a freak and he didn’t want to know me anymore. He ordered me to leave immediately. I wasn’t dressed, still standing in my nightgown I didn’t know what to do.”

Jane remained silent, not commenting, it was too familiar and tears started to fall. Maria didn’t notice, she was far too involved with her story.

“When I started to cry uncontrollably, he disappeared into his room and minutes later he had his jeans and t-shirt on. He muttered that he couldn’t be anywhere near me and left the flat. The slam of the door shattered my heart. The only person who I thought would understand didn’t. I hastily dressed and called a friend of mine. She could give me a place to stay. She came and collected me in her car. Her sister lived in Brighton and now here I am.”

“I’m so sorry my father was so horrible to you, I don’t understand what his issue is. What difference did it make who you are or who you love?”

“It mattered to him, he was old fashioned and didn’t believe in anything other than straight men and women. It all worked out well, I did home schooling to children when I arrived and then started my candle business. I gave up teaching a few years ago and now concentrate on moulding wax.”

“I don’t know what to say Maria, but I wouldn’t share this with Gale. I don’t think she would approve either.”

The Jazz music started up as soon as the story had been told, Maria closed the windows and locked the back door. Jane carried the cups to the sink and rinsed them out.

Jane wished her aunt goodnight and plodded up the stairs to her room. This was her new home and she hoped she would be happy.