Until We Meet Again (3 page)

‘Oh, very well,’ replied Maddy. ‘Mrs Lovejoy and Mrs Merryweather; how’s that for a couple of happy names? And I must say they’re always cheerful and easy to please. Just the sort of clients I like. They’re two of the elderly ladies from the chapel and they always come together. They want two winter skirts each, so there’s no rush to finish them, fortunately. One for best and another for everyday wear, they instructed me; nothing too complicated. They’re rather old-fashioned sort of ladies.’

‘Not the sort of customers that shop at Moon’s Modes then?’ asked Tilly.

‘No, not at all. I’m careful, though, not to deal in the type of clothing that they sell there. Not that there’s much likelihood of that. I must say, I think they have become rather exclusive lately at Aunt Faith’s shop, and quite expensive, too.’

‘Yes, I agree,’ smiled Tilly. ‘We’re lucky, though, aren’t we, because we get our clothes at trade price? Or rather, Mother does, I should say. She still buys my clothes for me whilst I’m at school, but she’s very good at letting me choose just what I want. Apart from the school uniform, of course; I’ve got no choice about that. Only one more year, though, and I’ll be rid of the dratted thing!
The red blazer doesn’t exactly go with my ginger hair!’

‘Have you decided yet which college you’ll be going to?’ asked Maddy.

‘I shall be applying to one in Manchester. But it all depends on my exam results; the school exams and my next piano exam. And here I am standing talking instead of getting home to do my practice…’

Tilly said goodbye to them. She retrieved her bicycle from the yard at the back of the shop and set off to cycle to the top end of Westborough, then across the Valley Bridge which linked the north and south bays of the town, to her home in the South Bay.

Chapter Three

T
he Moon family home was in Victoria Avenue, a favourable part of the town leading off the esplanade. It was near to the Valley Gardens, an area of woodland paths and steps which led down to the lower promenade. Recent innovations were the Rose Garden, and the Italian Garden with a pond, fountains and classical statues and a bright array of flowerbeds.

Tilly lived with her mother, stepfather and her twin brother, Tommy. The house was really too large for them now. When they had moved there, some nine years ago when William and Faith were first married, William’s father, Isaac, had lived with them. So had Jessica, Tilly’s elder sister, who had married a few years ago; and Maddy had stayed there for the summer of each year whenever the Pierrot troupe was performing in Scarborough. A
less frequent visitor had been Samuel, Tilly’s elder brother.

Mrs Baker, their resident cook cum housekeeper, had formerly occupied the attic rooms, but since the family had been depleted Faith had suggested that she should take over one of the spare bedrooms, a large one that had at one time been the twins’ bedroom, until they grew too old to share. This had been converted into a comfortable bed-sitting room for the woman who was regarded as one of the family. She was a widow from the chapel that William had always attended; she was now approaching sixty and had been with them ever since they moved there.

Both William and Faith realised that their home was now over-large for their requirements, but they had been happy there throughout their married life and saw no reason to move.

Tommy was the only family member at home when Tilly arrived back. She had hoped she might have the house to herself. She had some intensive piano practice to do that afternoon and she did not like an audience; that was to say, not until she had reached the high standard she expected of herself. However, Tommy had his school friend, Dominic, with him and she guessed they would be going out together as soon as they had finished lunch.

They were seated at the kitchen table tucking into plates of chicken – left over from the previous evening – with salad and bread and butter.

‘Hi there, Tilly,’ said Tommy. ‘Are you going to join us? There’s plenty of grub left. Pull up a chair and get stuck in.’

‘Yes, thanks; I will,’ she replied. ‘I was going to make myself a sandwich, but you’ve saved me the trouble.’

‘Not me,’ mumbled Tommy, with his mouth over-full. ‘Mrs Baker got it ready for us, didn’t she, Dom? She could see us looking helpless and she came to our rescue. And there’s some left-over trifle in the pantry. She told us to help ourselves… We could do with a cup of tea, though. She didn’t make that. Perhaps you could oblige, would you, Tilly?’

‘Typical!’ laughed Tilly. ‘I might have known you wouldn’t have got your own lunch, you lazy so-and-so!’

‘Well, she offered,’ retorted Tommy, ‘and I wasn’t going to refuse, especially as I had a guest.’

‘Yes, so I see… Hello, Dominic,’ said Tilly.

To her annoyance she felt herself blushing a little. Dominic Fraser always had that effect on her; he was so good looking. With his fair wavy hair and pink cheeks he could almost be called
cherubic; except for his blue eyes with their wickedly perceptive glance, and his wide mouth which always appeared to be smiling at secret thoughts of his own.

‘Hello there, Tilly. Yes, do come and join us,’ he said.

‘Yes, after I’ve made your tea,’ she replied.

She filled the kettle and put it on the gas stove to boil, then put three spoonfuls of tea into the earthenware pot and laid out the blue and white striped cups and saucers that they used in the kitchen. Tommy was well able to fend for himself, but if one of the womenfolk would run around after him he was only too willing to let them. She felt that her mother spoilt him, probably because her other son, Samuel, had distanced himself from his family. She knew that her mother was hurt by her elder son’s attitude, not that she was ever very critical of him.

Tilly guessed that Dominic had the same easy-going nature as her twin brother. The two boys had been friends ever since they had started at the same school together at eleven years of age. All the Barraclough children – who had now, apart from Samuel, adopted the name of Moon – had attended private schools on coming to live in Scarborough, just as they had done when they lived in York. Their father, Edward, had been, as he still was, an
influential banker in the city who had believed in paying for the very best – or what he considered to be the best – education for his children. Unlike William Moon, who had sent Patrick and Maddy to the local council school, the one that both he and his first wife, Clara, had attended many years before. They had both left at thirteen years of age, Patrick to enter the family undertaking business and Maddy to learn dressmaking skills until she left to go on the stage a few years later.

Tilly considered that Patrick and Maddy were both as well informed and intelligent as were their step-siblings, despite their lack of college or sixth-form education. She, Tilly, did wish to go to college, however, to continue her musical studies. Her sister, Jessica, had gone on to a commercial college after leaving school, and had worked as a shorthand typist until her marriage. And she knew that Tommy hoped to go to university. She had heard him and Dominic talking about applying for the same ones. Not Leeds, though, which was the obvious choice for Yorkshire boys, but somewhere further afield, possibly London or Cardiff; she did not think either of them could aspire to Oxford or Cambridge.

She put the teapot, milk, sugar and cups and saucers on a tray and carried it across to them. ‘There you are,’ she said, ‘or do you want me
to pour it out for you as well?’

‘Yes…please, Tilly,’ said Tommy languidly. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘It’s all the same if I do,’ she retorted, ‘but at least you did say please.’

Tommy could charm the birds off the trees, thought Tilly, with his roguish bright blue eyes and his winning smile. When they were much younger, Tommy had always been the more outgoing and seemingly brighter of the twins; Tilly had followed along meekly in his shadow. She felt that people had tended to regard her as a paler and less interesting version of her twin brother. Tilly’s eyes were greyish-blue, not the startling blue of her brother’s, and her hair was a lighter shade of ginger than Tommy’s. His bright orange mop of hair had often earned him the name of Carrots or Ginger Nut, which he had taken in good part. Tilly had been much less self-assured, too, less assertive and, therefore, the one not to be noticed as much as her exuberant brother.

But she had grown out of her reticence and lack of confidence to a certain extent. She had been helped by her sister, Jessica, who had always tried to take Tommy down a peg or two when he got too cocky; and by her stepsister, Maddy, who had always had a good deal of time for the younger girl and had fostered her interest in music.
Knowing that she was a more than competent pianist had given Tilly more self-assurance, and she now felt she was able to give as good as she got in her dealings with Tommy and his mates. Dominic, though; he was inclined to get her all of a fluster, but she was not sure why.

She helped herself to chicken and salad and sat down at the table with the two boys. She poured out their tea and a cup for herself before asking, ‘Are you two off somewhere this afternoon?’

‘Now don’t say you want to get rid of us so soon!’ said Dominic, turning his penetrating blue gaze upon her. ‘I don’t know about your brother here, but I’m delighted to have such a charming young lady as a lunch companion.’

‘I see quite enough of her, thank you!’ quipped Tommy.

‘We’re starved of the company of the fair sex, Tommy and me,’ Dominic continued, ‘in the cloistered halls of King Billy’s. The only female company we have is with Mam-selle Dupont, the old hag who teaches us French. Isn’t that so, Tommy?’

‘Quite true,’ replied Tommy. ‘Just Mam-selle – she must be fifty if she’s a day – and the cook, of course, and the ladies who serve us our lunch. They’re careful, though, not to employ anyone under fifty lest we should be led astray.’

‘Yes, it’s the same at our place,’ agreed Tilly. ‘Only women teachers, though, in our case, except for the Reverend Pilkington who gives us Religious Instruction, and he must be well turned sixty.’

Tilly attended Queen Adelaide’s Academy for Girls, which had been built, along with King William’s Academy for Boys, during the short reign of William the Fourth in the 1830s. As Dominic had said, the pupils led sheltered lives, kept away from members of the opposite sex whilst they were in school. The only difference between these establishments and boarding schools was that the scholars went home each evening. The standard of education was high, with a good deal of emphasis put on scholarly achievement. More than half went into the sixth form each year, several of those going on to college or university.

The two boys, and Tilly, had one more year to do; Dominic would be eighteen in September and the twins’ birthday was in October. They met with the opposite sex at church or chapel, or, as in the case of Dominic and Tilly, with their friends’ siblings. But although Dominic loved to tease and to pretend to be worldly wise, Tilly did not think he had ever formed a friendship with a girl, and neither, she was certain, had Tommy. As for Tilly, she had been too busy with her school
work and, in addition, her music lessons.

‘Well, now’s your chance,’ said Tilly, addressing her remark, rather daringly, to Dominic. ‘You’ve got a month’s holiday, haven’t you? Plenty of time for you to find a nice girl to keep you company.’ She blushed then, fearing she might have been too bold; she didn’t want him to think she was hinting that she would like to befriend him. ‘I mean to say…’ she went on, a little confusedly, ‘there are a lot of nice girls at church, aren’t there? And I believe they are having a social evening there the week after next. Well, actually, I know they are, because I’ve been asked to play a piano solo.’ She stopped as she could feel her cheeks turning pink.

‘We’ll be there with bells on, won’t we, Tommy?’ said Dominic. ‘Do you know, I’ve never heard you play properly. No…what I mean is, I’ve only heard you from the next room. I recognised a Chopin…polonaise, I think it was. It sounded very clever to me. We have a gramophone record of Chopin pieces. I should imagine they are rather difficult.’

‘Oh, she’s not half bad, my sister,’ said Tommy, grinning at her. ‘Yes, I daresay we’ll be there, if we’re not too busy, that is. You asked if we were going out this afternoon, Tilly. Well, as a matter of fact, we are. There’s an extra meeting of our ATC.’

‘Yes, with the situation in the Balkans hotting
up, Mr Gledhill is keeping on with the practices all through the summer holiday,’ added Dominic. ‘There’s no telling where it all may lead.’

Tommy and Dominic had joined the Auxiliary Training Corps for cadets at their school when they had turned fifteen. It was led by an ex-army man, Humphrey Gledhill, who had served as a subaltern during the Boer War and now, at the age of fifty-plus, had retired from the army to teach Geography and Physical Training, as well as being in charge of the ATC.

‘You surely don’t think there’s going to be a war, do you?’ asked Tilly. ‘I was talking to Mother about it earlier, but I said to her it’s all so far away. Surely it can’t affect us?’

‘That’s what a lot of people are saying, but it doesn’t do to be complacent,’ said Dominic, self-importantly. ‘Germany is already allied to Austria. And Russia and France are allies, on the other side, of course. You mark my words, Britain will soon be dragged in to support France, and then it will be out and out war.’

‘I hope you are wrong,’ said Tilly. It sounded to her as though Dominic wanted it to happen, but probably he was just showing off. ‘Our King and Kaiser Wilhelm are cousins. They wouldn’t let it happen, would they? I mean, fighting on opposing sides…’

‘We’ll just have to wait and see,’ said Tommy, a little more consolingly. ‘Don’t worry about it any more at the moment, Tilly.’

‘But it wouldn’t affect you, would it?’ she persisted. In her view the ATC was only playing at being soldiers. ‘You couldn’t join the army; you’re still at school.’

‘We are both nearly eighteen,’ said Dominic proudly. ‘And that’s why the Hump has called these extra practices, so we can be ready if needs be.’

‘Well, let’s pray it doesn’t come to that,’ said Tilly. And that was just what she would do. She would say an extra prayer that night, and in church on Sunday.

Madeleine Nicholls was praying that the fine weather would hold until next week when she was due to sing with the Pierrots on the North Bay. They had enjoyed a good season in this summer of 1914, although all the members of the troupe realised that they were fortunate to have kept going and still be attracting goodly crowds to watch them. These were mainly their loyal supporters who visited Scarborough year after year; and the local people, of course, many of whom were keen followers of Uncle Percy’s Pierrots and had been so, in many cases, since they were children.

There was a great deal of competition in the town now from other sources. Will Catlin, whose name had long been associated with Scarborough, so much so that it was a byword in the town, was still going strong on the South Bay. His Pierrot troupe, which was amongst the very first to have appeared in the town, had given a Command Performance to King Edward the Seventh during the early years of his reign, and had therefore changed their name from Catlin’s Favourite Pierrots to Catlin’s Royal Pierrots. His troupe had become famous not only in Scarborough and along the east coast but at theatres in the south of England where his other companies performed.