Wartime Brides (18 page)

A movement, something in the shadows beneath the portico where the moon did not shine, caught her eye. The movement became a figure. Charlotte paused, heart thudding, mouth open.

‘Who’s there?’

The figure moved forward.

‘Mother?’

She couldn’t believe it. ‘Janet! What are you doing here?’

Janet sounded close to tears. ‘Where have you been, mother? I’ve been waiting for you. I needed you.’

Charlotte threw her arms around her daughter. ‘Oh Janet! If I’d known …’ Her words trailed off. Thinking of where she had been and with whom made her feel guilty.

‘Come inside, dear.’ With one arm around her shoulder, she guided her daughter into the house.

They settled in the warmth of the kitchen, with large cups of cocoa. Charlotte ignored the fact that sugar was still scarce and ladled two spoonfuls into each cup.

Janet told her in no uncertain terms how awful school was and how she had no intention of returning. ‘You have to tell daddy not to send me back, mummy. You have to!’

Tell daddy. It sounded so easy. It probably was to a child. Shoulder a trusted adult with the responsibility and things would be sorted out. If only it were so!

Charlotte stared into her cocoa, feeling guilty. Tonight had been too good to be true. Janet’s homecoming had brought her back to earth with a bang.

Mrs Grey decided to come in on Monday morning so by rights Polly should have been acting as assistant receptionist at the surgery. But Dr Hennessey-White wouldn’t be back until Tuesday and there were no appointments to deal with except over the phone. The truth was she hated paperwork and Marjorie, who’d styled herself chief receptionist, seemed to find her plenty of filing to do.

Despite Marjorie’s protests, Polly excused herself and made the short walk from Clifton Park to Royal York Crescent. She had a job to do.

Mrs Grey was standing at the kitchen door when she arrived. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘None of your bloody business!’ Polly retorted as she flounced on through, her usual smart self in a black suit updated by Aunty Meg who had sewed on white collar and cuffs.

She tried the drawing room first. No one. But she halted a moment to take in the tasteful colours of pistachio green, pale pink and dark beige. It was the sort of colour scheme she would have chosen if only she was getting married and setting up a home of her own.

The softness of the colours did nothing to quench her anger. The feeling of having been robbed of a future was
like
a fire within her that flickered then raged as each perceived slight was thrown on to it.

She swept on down the hall. The door to the study was closed but she heard voices. Without knocking she barged in.

Charlotte was standing in front of the window, an elegant picture in a yellow twinset and a fitted grey skirt that matched her eyes.

Polly gritted her teeth.
So perfect!
Well, she’d soon fix that!

‘I want to talk to you!’

Charlotte looked at her daughter before looking back at Polly.

She looks a wreck, thought Polly, spotting the dark lines beneath Charlotte’s eyes. But she felt no pity. What’s she got to be wrecked about? And what’s the brat doing at home?

‘I want to talk to you now! In private!’

She purposefully threw Janet a dismissive look.

Charlotte took her cue. ‘Wait outside a moment, Janet. We’ll continue our talk later.’

Both women watched as Janet walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.

‘My daughter’s unhappy,’ said Charlotte in a wistful voice.

Polly swung round immediately, her eyes blazing. ‘She isn’t the only bloody one!’ She took a step forward. ‘Now let’s get this straight, Mrs bloody Hennessey-White, you and nobody like you has got any rights interfering in my life.’

Charlotte frowned and took a step back. It pleased Polly to see her do it. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Polly, liking the feeling of power she’d suddenly discovered, took another step towards her. ‘YOU!’ she said, pointing her finger full into Charlotte’s face, ‘made sure that me and Aaron never got permission to marry. YOU got him shipped back to America!’

Charlotte blinked in surprise. ‘What?’

‘You ’eard! Me and Aaron Grant were going to get married. He might not have said so, but I knows we were. It was understood. Then you interfered.’

Charlotte slumped onto a chair. ‘You’ve got it wrong! Aaron told me he wanted to get married and I went along to see his commanding officer. I’m sorry, Polly. I was only trying to help.’

‘You lying cow!’ said a scowling Polly, her finger still wagging in Charlotte’s face. ‘Just do me a favour, missus. Don’t do me any favours. I don’t know what the bloody ’ell you said to ’im but you’ve gone and bloody ruined my life!’

As the words echoed around the room Polly stormed out, her fists tightly clenched, her jaw aching.

It was enough that Charlotte had slumped into a chair with a shocked expression on her face. It was enough that Polly had stated exactly how she felt. But if Charlotte thought that was the end of it then she was very much mistaken. Polly wanted revenge. If Charlotte had denied her a better future overseas, then she would find a man in this country who could give her what she wanted, no holds barred!

*

Edna and Colin told no one about the house Billy Hills had offered to rent them in Kent Street. It was small and had a shop front, which meant stepping straight out into the street, but there was an extra room downstairs which they could turn into a bedroom.

‘Easy for getting the chariot in and out,’ Colin said when they first took a look.

‘I’m glad it suits you,’ Edna replied.

‘I meant the pram for the kids,’ he said lightly. ‘Them two bedrooms upstairs are going to get pretty full pretty damn quick, you know.’

Edna smiled bashfully and felt a warm blush seeping over her face. Time was running out and she had to go ahead with the wedding. Backing out now would break a lot of hearts. And still she hadn’t managed to get out to see Sherman.

‘I’ll have my workbench here, my jig here, and my stock of wood just there,’ Colin said, rolling his chair around the room as he pointed out each position. ‘And there’s plenty more room for wood out the back. No, I can’t see any drawback, can you, my love?’

My love! The words sounded different coming from Colin than from anyone else. It was a typical Bristolian form of address. But from him it sounded special.

They fell silent, each thinking the same thoughts. Colin spoke first.

‘So, when do we tell the dragon?’

‘She thinks we’re going to move in with her.’

‘Like hell we are.’

‘She’ll be upset.’

‘I don’t care. It’s my wedding, my marriage, and you’ll be my wife. The fact that I get her as a mother-in-law is a cross I have to bear. Bloody big one though, innit?’

Edna laughed and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the back of the head. His funny moments obliterated any second thoughts. She loved him then. It was hard not to.

Thoughtfully she rubbed her cheek against his. ‘What if we were to go on honeymoon – and not come back?’

‘Edna. Even though Billy Hills is flogging every toy he possibly can from the back of his old van, our money don’t stretch to a honeymoon, unless you fancy a day trip to Weston.’

‘But we don’t have to tell
her
that. We can tell her we’re going for the week, that Billy’s really come up trumps. And in the meantime we’ll furnish the house and get it just as we want it. Billy will help. I know he will.’

She looked down into his eyes. Weston-Super-Mare for a day then a home of their own. ‘What do you think?’

A slow smile crossed his face. ‘I think she’ll steam right up and burst like an old kettle when she finds out.’

Behind Edna’s happy smile one nagging thought still remained. Somehow or other, despite the wedding, she had to contact Charlotte, start making the baby clothes, and find an opportunity to get to the orphanage. She would have to explain why but Charlotte was a person she felt she could trust.

*

How, she didn’t know, but somehow Charlotte managed to persuade Janet to go back to school. She drove her there, one eye on the speedometer and one on her watch. It was imperative she was back in time for dinner so that David never suspected that his daughter had absconded from school. Mrs Grey had been sworn to secrecy.

Coming back she got caught in the tide of people coming out of the tobacco factories and wished instantly that she’d taken the other route over Clifton Suspension Bridge.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if the factory girls had stuck to the pavement, but there were so many of them, buddies arm in arm, that they spilled onto the road and took no notice whatsoever of bicycle bells or car horns.

Edna was hurrying along, head down. So much seemed to happen before a wedding. Besides her mother fussing and fidgeting with all the things
she
thought her daughter should have, neighbours had handed small home-made presents to her. It was also a foregone conclusion that the girls in the office had collected and would either present her with a purse full of money or buy her something they thought she surely needed like towels or flannelette bedsheets.

The main thing on her mind at the moment was the discussion she’d had with her mother last night regarding her wedding night.

‘Screaming would be best, or if you can’t manage that you can at least cry. The one thing you’ve got in your favour is that he’s not a complete man what with having no legs to steady himself with.’

Edna’s mouth had dropped open. Her mother had said all this without showing the slightest embarrassment or emotion.

It was a cruel and foolish thing to say. Edna could have cried then and there. Instead she’d stormed from the room, past her father who sat snoring with a newspaper over his head, a cold pipe by his side. He’d always been merely a shadow that drifted along behind her mother. Now she pitied him.

A crowd of laughing girls from Woodbine production elbowed her off the pavement. As she stepped out into the road a car horn honked loudly. In response she skipped back on again, then realised someone was calling her name.

‘Edna!’

She immediately recognised the voice and turned round.

Charlotte was hanging out of the window. ‘Can I give you a lift?’

Edna’s spirits lifted. This was exactly the person she wanted to see. ‘I’m glad I saw you,’ said Edna once they’d got the small talk about the weather out of the way. ‘There’s something I wanted to ask you. It’s about helping make the baby clothes.’

‘Oh, I didn’t think you’d have time for that until after you’re married. You are giving up work, I take it?’ said Charlotte, sounding her horn indignantly at every fresh-faced young factory girl that stepped into her path.

‘I don’t know that I can afford to. Not yet. Not until Colin’s got established.’

Charlotte gripped the steering wheel and glared angrily at the intransigent crowd. Edna had never seen her so tense before. Talking seemed to help; the more she talked the more her grip loosened.

‘I can bring some material and patterns for dresses and romper suits over to you. I leave it to your own common sense to use any feminine material for dresses and only cotton for romper suits. Boys will be boys even when they are babies! Get out of the way will you! Stupid girls!’ The last comments were directed at yet more factory girls who seemed to tumble out of the door like heaps of porridge oats.

Edna smiled at the thought of baby boys acting tough. It was exceptionally piquant to imagine because her son was one of them.

‘I think I can manage.’

Charlotte became thoughtful. The tyres squealed as a gap opened in the crowd and she urged the car forward. ‘I think it would be a very good idea if you came up to my house now and collected it. The material and patterns have all been divided into carrier bags so it won’t take a minute. Have you time?’

‘Yes,’ Edna replied and had the distinct impression that Charlotte visibly relaxed. Oh well, she thought, everyone has to have their off days.

As they entered the hall of Charlotte’s house, David Hennessey-White strode purposefully out of the drawing room. Edna barged into the back of Charlotte as her friend stopped quickly in her tracks.

‘David!’

Edna sensed her nervousness.

Charlotte did her best to hide it. ‘You do remember Edna don’t you, darling. You remember her fiancé …’ She did not finish the sentence. She did not need to. Colin and the day at Temple Meads Railway Station were easily remembered. The tight expression David Hennessey-White had worn when he came out of the drawing room was replaced by a warm smile but there was a dead look in his eyes.

‘Of course I remember. How are you, Edna?’

Edna shook the proffered hand.

Charlotte stood close to his side, her voice oddly cajoling. ‘Darling, I was doing some shopping at a market garden near Long Ashton and got caught in the crowd coming out of the tobacco factory. I saw Edna and suggested she come up here to collect one of the orphanage bags. She’s going to make some baby clothes.’

He smiled. ‘Very commendable of you, Edna.’

She smiled stupidly and nodded towards the floor. There was something of the snake about his voice. There was no harshness, just a slippery charm and a bland smile that never altered. If he was hoping to charm her, he had failed miserably. He frightened her.

Charlotte dashed off to get the carrier bags as promised.

Still smiling, David asked her about the wedding.

‘The fourth Saturday in May.’ Edna glanced towards the door Charlotte had disappeared through. She made an effort to stop being nervous. ‘You are both invited.’ She prayed that Charlotte wouldn’t be long.

Her prayers were swiftly answered. Charlotte returned
with
a carrier bag in each hand. She was smiling broadly and with almost as confident an air as on the first day they’d met. She held up the two carrier bags, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. ‘I’ve brought you two. I’m sure that will keep you busy.’

‘As dinner is an hour away, I insist on giving you a lift home,’ said David. Edna thanked him but wished Charlotte was taking her.