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Authors: Roberta Grieve

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Norah was often late and her excuses were colourful and varied. Ellie wondered why Trevor kept her on when she was so unreliable. But he’d told her that Norah’s husband had been his best mate when they were in the forces during the war. They’d both come through it all right and Bob had gone back to his old job in the silk mill on the other side of Chelmsford, the place where he and Norah had both worked since leaving school. Not long afterwards he’d been killed in an accident with one of the machines, leaving Norah very badly off. Trevor had given her the job out of sympathy and now he hadn’t the heart to fire her. Besides, he said, when she was here she worked like a Trojan and the customers liked her.

Ellie liked her too, although her tongue could be a bit sharp at times. But there was a rough kindness beneath the brusque manner.

Now, Norah breezed through the café, pulling off her headscarf as she went to hang up her coat. When she came back, tying her flowered
wrap-around
overall and patting her hair into place, she grabbed a tray and darted between the tables, loading the dirty plates and mugs dangerously high.

‘You get on with the sandwiches, love,’ she said. ‘I’ll get this lot cleared. I expect you’re all behind with me being late.’ She dashed around as she spoke, returning with the loaded tray and pushing the swing door open with her hip.

‘Sorry, Trev. I’ll make it up to you.’ The words were flung over her shoulder and by the time Trevor turned to answer, she was gone again.

‘She may be little, but she’s a real bundle of dynamite, that Norah,’ one of the men said, coming up to the counter with his mug held out for a refill. Ellie laughed and poured the tea, then started buttering bread for the sandwiches. She was glad the other woman had turned up. The work was easier when it was shared. Maybe it wasn’t so bad here after all.

She was absorbed in her work when Norah came back with her empty tray. But she looked up quickly at the older woman’s words.

‘By the way, Trev. I saw your missus when I was in town yesterday. She asked me if you’d come to your senses yet.’

 

Trevor gave Norah a lift home in his old van when the café closed that afternoon. But for Ellie, work wasn’t finished for the day. She wiped the counter down, put out clean mugs, changed the tablecloths and laid the tables for the afternoon and evening rush. They weren’t usually quite so busy during the second session.

It was mostly fried food, sometimes steak-and-kidney or shepherd’s pie. But these days Trevor didn’t have time for all the preparation, although he was a good cook and Trev’s Café used to be famous for its home cooking.

As Ellie worked, she wondered what Norah had meant by her remark about his wife. She looked up at the photo on the mantelpiece. Gloria Ridley was a pretty blonde with a well-developed figure who looked younger than her years. She had her arm round a young girl of about thirteen and both of them were laughing into the camera. The girl, Julie, had dark hair and brown eyes like her father.

Ellie picked the photo up, wondering what had made Gloria leave a nice man like Trevor – he was kind, hard-working and, as Norah had told her, he idolized Julie. She was still holding the photo when Trevor came in, Rex gambolling at his heels. He took it from her and sat down at the table in the middle of the room, sighing heavily and gazing at the picture. The dog put his head on Trevor’s knee and he fondled it absently.

‘You know, Helen – that day I first saw you – I thought it was Julie come back to see me. You still remind me of her a bit – not just your hair. You’ve got spirit – you don’t let people walk all over you.’

If only he knew, Ellie thought. It had taken a great deal of determination to stand up for herself – to stick her chin out and pretend she didn’t care when the customers tried it on. But Trevor was right. No one was going to tread on her ever again. She turned away and started to dish up their meal. It wouldn’t be long before they had to open again and they should make the most of the brief break.

When she put Trevor’s plate in front of him, he was still staring at the photograph.

‘You must miss them very much,’ Ellie said, sitting down opposite them. She hadn’t liked to mention his family before but she couldn’t help being curious, especially after what Norah had said earlier about him coming to his senses.

‘It’s my fault she went,’ Trevor said. ‘I thought she’d come back after a couple of weeks – just teaching me a lesson, she said. But it’s been more than a year.’ He sighed and pushed his plate away.

‘What did you do? Was it something very bad?’ Ellie wondered if he’d had an affair. But poor Trev – what chance did he have, working all the hours there were?

Trevor laughed. ‘If you can call being a boring lump with no ambition something bad,’ he said. ‘She was right though. I’m happy here – I like having my own business, I like cooking and I like knowing my customers, having a bit of a laugh with them all.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Ellie couldn’t see that Gloria had anything to complain about – unless she didn’t like having to work as hard as her husband. She had seen in the short time she’d been here that it needed more than one person to keep the business going.

‘Gloria had plans – big ideas. And why not? When we first got married I was a chef in a big hotel – I was trained by a top French chef – cordon bleu, me.’ Trevor stuck his chest out and grinned. ‘Gloria was pleased I wanted my own business and we saved for years. But this was the only place we could afford. Gloria wanted somewhere posh – worthy of my talents, she said.’

Ellie nodded sympathetically. ‘Is that what she meant by coming to your senses – she wants you to sell up and move on?’

‘That’s right, love. But the posh stuff isn’t really me, love.’ Trevor sighed and ran his hands through his thinning hair. ‘Gloria took Julie and went to live in town – said she’d come back when I saw sense.’

‘Do you miss them?’ Ellie asked.

‘I did at first – Julie more than anything. I let the business slide for a while. Then Norah gave me a good talking-to.’ He gave a little laugh and Ellie smiled.

‘She’s good at that,’ she said.

‘You can say that again. Anyway, I pulled meself together and now at least I’m doing well enough to make sure Julie’s OK.’ He pulled his plate towards him and started to eat. But Ellie noticed that he left most of it.

She scraped the remains into Rex’s bowl and washed up while Trevor rolled himself a cigarette. It was nearly time to open up again and she went to switch on the illuminated sign at the entrance to the car park.

 

It was late when the last customer left and they locked up. Ellie cleared the tables and relaid them for the morning before going through to the kitchen and starting to run hot water into the large stainless-steel sink.

‘Leave that,’ Trevor said. ‘You’ve done enough for one day. Norah can do it in the morning.’

‘How will she get here without her bike? It’s quite a way from the village.’

‘I’ll pick her up in the van first thing – and she’d better be ready.’

Ellie laughed at Trevor’s mock angry expression.

‘Seriously, Helen. I had a chat with her earlier and it seems she’s not been too well lately – she keeps getting these pains in her legs. But she didn’t want to let me down, she said.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Silly mare. Anyway, I’ve arranged to pick her up and take her home – at least until she’s feeling better. And she’s promised to see the doctor about her problem.’

‘You’re a good boss, Trev,’ Ellie told him.

He shrugged, looking embarrassed. ‘Like I said, Norah’s a friend, not just an employee.’ He stood up. ‘You’d better be getting off to bed. It’s been a long day.’

Ellie went along the passage to her room. The pictures pinned to the wall above her bed – a black-and-white enlargement of Pat Boone and a coloured poster of Dickie Valentine, all dark curly hair and white teeth – reminded her that this was still Julie’s room. A china doll in a pale-blue crinoline sat on top of the chest of drawers, next to a framed photo of Trevor and Gloria. A bookcase against the far wall held
School Friend
and
Bunty
annuals and a selection of pony stories. Perhaps Gloria had told her they wouldn’t be away for long. Ellie wondered what would happen to her if they came back. Where would she go?

Next morning Trevor was in his usual place at the stove, expertly flipping sausages and bacon so that they browned evenly. He looked up as she came through to the café and put down his spatula. ‘I’m just off to get Norah – won’t be long. Keep an eye on these for me. If any lorries turn up, you can let them in and take their orders. Won’t hurt them to wait.’

Left alone in the café, only the quiet gurgling of the tea urn and the spattering of the frying food breaking the silence, Ellie’s concerns about the future resurfaced. She knew she couldn’t stay here for ever. Already there’d been sly remarks and knowing looks about Trev’s ‘new girl’. Perhaps she should be looking for another job, or at least somewhere else to live.

Beyond the steamy window, the pink-streaked sky heralded another bright spring day and, already, a couple of lorries had turned into the car park.

Ellie unlocked the door and switched on the outside lights indicating that Trev’s was open for business. She stood by the open door, breathing in the country smells until another lorry pulled into the car park, bringing with it a whiff of diesel, and listening to the roar of traffic, reminding her of London; but the noise and smells were all she missed, she told herself.

By the time Trevor returned with Norah, the café was full and Ellie was rushed off her feet. There was no time to dwell on her problems while trying to sort out who had ordered two eggs with their sausages and bacon, and who wanted fried bread but no tomatoes, or bacon but no eggs. Even in a brief lull there were tables to be cleared and re-set, sandwiches to make, tea to be poured. Norah, in deference to her poor legs, was spared the running around, ensconced in the kitchen, up to her elbows in sudsy hot water.

Ellie and Trevor worked side by side until the morning rush was over and he locked the door behind the last customer. This two-hour break before they opened again for the evening was usually just as busy with preparations and clearing up. But today Norah had worked hard behind the scenes. The kitchen surfaces were sparkling, the floor had been mopped and the smell of something other than fried food warmed the air. The table in the centre had been laid with a white cloth and sparkling cutlery. As Ellie and Trevor sat down, Norah brought a steaming meat pie, its crust light and crisp and golden, to the table.

‘What’s all this in aid of then?’ Trevor asked, holding his plate out for Norah’s generous dollop of mashed potato.

Norah flushed. ‘It’s just my way of saying thank you for being so understanding about my problems. You know how much I need this job – not just for the money.’ She flushed, then with a return of her old tartness, she said, ‘Go on then – eat up. Don’t let it go cold.’

‘Good pie, Norah. Can’t beat home cooking,’ he said with his mouth full.

Norah went red again, and with a sudden flash of insight Ellie realized that the older woman was in love with Trevor. And why not? With her hair in its tight bun, her wrap-around overall and her ‘poor legs’, Ellie had thought her old, comparing her with Gran. But she’d been at school with the glamorous Gloria and must be about the same age – barely into her forties.

And, knowing the glamorous Gloria with her red mouth and blonde locks, Norah must feel she couldn’t compete. Poor Norah, Ellie thought. She would never let Trevor know how she felt, while Trevor, being a man, wouldn’t see the treasure right under his nose.

As she put the remains of the pie into the fridge, Ellie smiled. Norah wasn’t silly. She must know how a man like Trevor could be wooed – hence the home-made steak-and-kidney pie.

CHAPTER TWELVE
 
 

A few days later, when they were locking up after the morning and lunchtime session, Norah asked Trevor to take her in to Chelmsford instead of going straight home.

‘How long will you be? I’ve got to open up again at five,’ he said.

‘I only want you to drop me off at the hospital. The doctor’s given me a letter about my veins. I don’t expect you to wait around for me. I can go home on the bus,’ she said.

Next day she told them she wouldn’t have to wait long for her operation.

‘Well, until you get it done, I’m not having you standing,’ Trevor said. He found a tall stool in the shed out the back and cleaned it up for her. Now she could ‘take the weight off’ as she put it, while washing up or doing the sandwiches. Not that Norah had a lot of weight to take off. Her problems had been caused by years of standing at the machines when she worked in the silk mill.

She still gratefully accepted the lifts to and from work, although she kept saying she ought to start riding her bicycle now that summer was almost here. But Ellie had a feeling that Norah was making the most of these few minutes each day alone with Trevor. Now that it seemed Gloria was off the scene permanently, perhaps she thought she stood a chance with him. Good luck to her.

As a thank you, Norah brought in a batch of her home-made scones and a Dundee cake. Trevor put them under the glass dome on the counter, next to the basket filled with cellophane-wrapped slices of cherry fruitcake and little packets of biscuits. Norah’s cakes sold out and Trevor asked her when she was going to make some more. They’d make a good team, if only he could see it, Ellie thought.

Ellie realized how much they depended on Norah when she went into hospital for her operation. They only kept her in a few days but she wasn’t allowed back to work for two weeks. And even then she had to rest.

As she tidied the kitchen and made sure everything was ready for reopening, Ellie smiled. Trevor had confessed to missing the little woman while she’d been away.

He’d just taken Norah home and the café seemed quiet after the bustle of the morning. Ellie switched on the radio and hummed along to ‘Singing the Blues’. Trev’s Café didn’t have a juke-box, or a pinball machine like many roadside cafés did. He said it attracted the wrong sort of people like the motorbike gangs who roared up and down at weekends on their way to Clacton.

She finished laying the tables and went back to the kitchen, first turning the wireless up so that she could still hear it while she went to tidy her bedroom. She’d never really got used to how quiet it was when the café was closed.

There was just time to change the sheets and make her bed. She went into Trevor’s room. It looked as though a hurricane had whirled through it. He never put anything away. After taking the dirty linen downstairs and loading the surprisingly modern twin-tub washing machine, she made up Trevor’s bed, then on impulse tidied his clothes away. As she dusted the dressing-table and replaced the ornaments and photographs, she sang along to the wireless which was tuned to Radio Luxembourg. They were playing Bill Haley now and, as she gave a final tweak of the bedspread, she danced a few steps and twirled round.

She stopped short, her hand to her breast as she realized that someone was standing in the doorway. Before she could speak, the woman launched into a tirade.

‘What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? And where’s that rat hiding himself?’ She strode across the room and wrenched open the wardrobe door. ‘Trevor, come out – now,’ she shrieked.

If she hadn’t been so terrified, Ellie would have laughed. But the woman – it must be Gloria – was still shouting, as if she imagined Trevor was hiding somewhere.

‘I might have known as soon as my back was turned you’d find some floozy to keep your bed warm. Well, I won’t have it – you hear me, Trevor?’

She eventually ran out of steam and turned to Ellie, who still hadn’t moved. ‘Well, what are you doing here? Get out – now.’

‘But Mrs Ridley, I can explain. I just work here,’ she stammered.

‘Work.’ The word was spat contemptuously. ‘I bet that’s not all you do. I hear things you know. Just because this café’s out in the sticks doesn’t mean he can get away with anything. I know what he’s been up to – you’ve been living here for months. Don’t deny it.’

‘Yes, I do live here – but it’s not like you think. Trevor’s been very kind to me.’ It was the wrong thing to say.

‘Is that what you call it?’ With a harsh laugh Gloria was off again. When she’d calmed down again, she looked round. ‘Well, where is he?’

‘He’s gone out somewhere,’ Ellie said. She wasn’t going to tell Trevor’s wife that he’d taken Norah home.

‘Well, I want you out of here – before he gets back. You’d better start packing.’ She stood over Ellie, her blue eyes cold, as she stuffed things into her bag haphazardly. There wasn’t much. She got her old satchel with the art things from the bottom of the wardrobe where it had remained undisturbed since her arrival six months earlier.

‘To think I was willing to come back,’ she heard Gloria mutter, as she almost pushed her through the door. She could feel the woman watching as she stumbled across the potholed car park, her head still reeling from Gloria’s tirade. Why was she so determined to believe the worst of her? Why hadn’t she let her explain?

Everything had happened so fast. And now, here she was, trudging along the same stretch of road that she had toiled along all those months ago – worse off than she’d been then. The long grass of the verge was wet against her bare legs and she shivered. Despite the earlier sunshine it was going to be a cold night. The light was beginning to fade as heavy clouds built up and Ellie choked back a despairing sob. Where could she go?

As she reached the junction leading to Little Howe, it crossed her mind that Norah might take her in. But how could she face her friend, knowing how she felt about Trevor? She might even think Gloria’s accusations were true.

Ellie sighed and leaned against the bus stop. No, she’d go into town and find a hotel or bed-and-breakfast. She spared a thought for Norah’s feelings when she heard that Gloria had decided to return to her husband. But when the threatened rain started to fall in earnest, her only concern was how soon the bus would come along. The black clouds had brought an early dusk and Ellie shivered, peering through the gloom, mesmerized by the hazy lights of the cars and lorries swishing through the rain. But no bus came.

 

Wrapped in misery Ellie didn’t notice the van until it stopped beside her, showering her with muddy water. She shrank away as Trevor opened the door. ‘What the hell are you doing out here?’

Ellie didn’t answer.

‘Don’t be silly, get in. You’re soaked.’

‘Gloria’s back.’

He muttered a curse and ran his hand through his sparse hair. ‘And I suppose she threw you out? The silly cow.’

Ellie nodded. ‘I’m not coming back – not after what she said.’

‘OK, then, Helen, have it your way. But for Pete’s sake get in out of the rain. I’ll take you to Norah’s. She’ll look after you. I’ll come and fetch you when I’ve sorted Gloria out.’

Ellie got into the van beside him, shivering now inside her damp coat. As Trevor pulled away, she turned her face towards the side window, ignoring his attempts to start a conversation.

At Norah’s cottage, Trevor gave a hurried explanation before jumping back in the van and driving off. Norah drew Ellie inside, helped her off with her wet things and wrapped her in her own candlewick
dressing-gown.
She sat the girl down in front of the wood stove, which now had its little glass doors wide open to reveal a satisfying blaze. ‘A hot drink is what you need, my girl,’ she said.

As she clattered crockery in the tiny kitchen Ellie heard her muttering, her exclamations interspersed with the occasional swear word. But by the time Norah returned carrying a laden tray, she was asleep.

 

Norah put the tray on a side table and looked down at the sleeping girl. Fond as she was of Trevor, she felt a spurt of anger that he hadn’t foreseen the trouble it could cause – letting a young girl like that stay at the café. But he was such a happy-go-lucky sort of bloke, as well as being straight as a die. It would never occur to him that people might read more into his relationship with a girl young enough to be his daughter.

Mind you, she could understand Gloria’s outrage on returning home to find Helen there – especially in what had been her bedroom. She might have left him but that didn’t mean she’d relinquished all claim on her husband. Jealousy was an unpredictable emotion – as Norah herself knew all too well.

The arrival of the girl had triggered off feelings she’d hardly been aware of. She shouldn’t have been jealous. Helen was such a scrawny little thing with her hair scraped back and those huge eyes in her thin white face. But over the months she’d filled out, her eyes had lost their haunted look and she had gained in confidence.

Norah had seen the way the male customers looked at her, had also seen Trevor’s eyes light up when she came into the room. And she’d been jealous – not of the girl’s beauty – she’d had her own share of looks when she was young. And she didn’t care how many men fancied Helen – just as long as Trevor didn’t. That was when she’d realized her feelings for him were more than friendship – not that he’d ever notice her, she thought, not while Gloria kept coming back to mess things up.

Helen, or Ellie as she now liked to be called, stirred and mumbled, then settled deeper into the armchair, her feet stretched out to the warm blaze. Norah set the cup down near her, but she hadn’t the heart to wake her. She looked so young and defenceless.

Norah knew there was nothing in Gloria’s accusations – she’d be able to tell if anything like that was going on. Trevor was just fond of the girl in the same way as he was fond of his daughter, Julie.

But men did silly things when they were lonely. Maybe it was just as well things had turned out this way. She should have asked Ellie to stay with her before now. She touched the girl’s arm. ‘Drink it while it’s hot, love – and have a biscuit too.’

Ellie sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘I don’t want to be a nuisance,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry about it. You’re staying here,’ Norah said firmly. ‘I’ll cook us some supper in a minute. Now – tell me exactly what happened. Trevor just said Gloria found you in his bedroom and threw you out.’

‘She said some awful things – but I was only changing the sheets. I didn’t, I couldn’t….’ Ellie burst into tears.

Norah let her cry for a few moments. Better to let it all out. She perched on the arm of the chair and put her arm round the girl. ‘I believe you, love. Some people have nasty minds. But I know Trevor – he’d never do anything out of place.’ She patted Ellie’s arm. ‘Anyway, no need to worry any more – you’re not going back there.’

She wasn’t surprised when Ellie joined her in the kitchen and, without a word, started to help lay the table. She smiled and let her get on with it.

Over scrambled eggs and toast she asked the question she’d been dying to ask ever since Trevor had deposited Ellie on her doorstep. ‘Is Gloria back for good?’

‘She gave me that impression, but I didn’t see any luggage.’

‘Maybe she just came for some of her things. Never mind, we’ll soon find out,’ Norah said. But Trevor didn’t come back that evening and she tried not to think that Gloria might decide to stay this time – or that Trevor had welcomed her back.

 

But she needn’t have worried. When he arrived to pick them both up for work the next day, Trevor told them he’d thrown Gloria out, angry at the way she’d treated Ellie.

He tried to persuade Ellie to return to the café, promising there’d be no more trouble from his wife. But Norah insisted that Ellie must stay at the cottage. ‘Then there’ll be no more misunderstandings,’ she said.

Although she didn’t want to outstay her welcome, Ellie agreed. She also told them she ought to find another job. She dreaded another confrontation with Gloria, as well as the thought of being the subject of gossip in the village. From what Trevor’s wife had said, everyone was talking about the young girl who’d ‘shacked up’ with the café owner.

Norah said it was nonsense – Gloria was just being her usual bitchy self – but Ellie was ready to move on anyway. When the local paper came out each week she scoured the situations vacant page as well as the advertisements for lodgings and rooms to let in nearby Chelmsford. But they all seemed very expensive.

‘No luck?’ Norah asked, as once more Ellie folded the paper with a sigh.

‘Most of the ones I’ve seen offer training on the job. But you don’t get paid much while you’re training and I need to be able to pay my way, and there’d be things like bus fares,’ Ellie replied. She still had her savings and had added to them considerably, having no opportunity to spend much while she’d been at Trevor’s. But she would need some more clothes and she still hadn’t given up hope of going to evening classes, perhaps even to college one day.

‘You needn’t worry about lodgings. My spare room is yours for as long as you want it,’ Norah said, picking up the paper. ‘There must be something. What were your best subjects at school?’

With a little laugh, Ellie said, ‘Art and history – not much use really, are they?’

‘S’pose not. Still, I can tell you’ve had a good education. You must have had ambitions – something you dreamed of doing. Perhaps it’s not too late.’

Ellie hesitated. It was a long time since she’d allowed herself to think about it. She couldn’t bear it if Norah ridiculed her. ‘It was always too late. Deep down I always knew they’d never let me go to college. I wanted to study art. But they made me leave school and get a job.’

‘Well, I’m darn sure you can get a better job than dogsbody in a café.’

‘Maybe – but who’s going to give me a chance?’ She helped herself to another scone and started to relax in the homely atmosphere of Norah’s cosy sitting room. It was almost like being back at Gran’s.

Norah broke the silence, reaching out to touch Ellie’s arm. ‘Why don’t you go home, love? Whatever the problem was, I’m sure it’s all blown over by now. They’ll be so pleased to have you back, they won’t be angry with you.’

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