Wartime Brides (31 page)

The first inkling she had that something was truly wrong was when Billy came calling.

Billy was his usual ebullient self. ‘Got a few more done, ’ave you chum?’

‘Some!’ Colin snapped, and nodded towards a workbench where four painted horses sat in a row.

Never had Edna seen him treat Billy in such an offhand manner.

Billy suddenly looked troubled. ‘Is that all? Come on,
Colin
, you ain’t gonna get enough for Mr Lewis for Christmas at this rate. You are going to speed up, aren’t you? And what about employing someone?’

Billy left with a flea in his ear. Edna apologised as she accompanied him with two of the wooden horses. He carried the other two.

‘I’m sorry, Billy. I don’t know what’s come over him. Mind you, he has been to the hospital a lot lately. He says they’re doing a lot of tests but won’t tell me why.’ She frowned and clasped her hands tightly together because she couldn’t help but fear the worst. Life without Colin would be unthinkable.

Billy looked resigned. He sighed and tipped his hat back further on his head. ‘P’raps I shouldn’t give you any more rides in me van,’ he said. ‘Making the old chap jealous, am I?’

Edna said nothing but looked down at the ground. Billy was probably right. Her mother had a lot to do with it. She wondered exactly what bitter seed she could have sown in Colin’s head. The fact that Charlotte had asked Billy to give Edna a lift on a regular basis didn’t help, but her hands were full trying to cope with David who had refused all medical treatment and had been lucky that Polly had refused to press charges.

Billy was looking deeply at Edna. ‘You’ve got to do what’s best for everyone,’ he said to her as if reading her thoughts.

It was easier said than done. She’d never been very good at broaching a subject. Besides, she was terrified that Colin would find out her true reason for visiting the
orphanage
. She didn’t want to hurt him. She preferred to bear the pain herself. And she
was
hurting because telling Colin about Sherman was becoming impossible. She loved them both. It was a terrible predicament and she couldn’t see a way out.

Chapter Seventeen

CHARLOTTE HATED THE
night. The old Georgian house groaned around her as though settling down to sleep. Charlotte found great difficulty in settling down. There was too much turmoil in her head, thoughts concerned with recent events and whatever lay before her.

She had considered taking the children out of school and having them home with her, but David was difficult to deal with since the incident with Polly. However, she had been relieved that Julian’s prognosis had been wrong. David had not committed suicide.

She had asked Julian to have him hospitalised but he had surprised her by refusing. ‘He’s come through it – more or less – and one has to think of his professional standing,’ Julian had responded. ‘I mean, you know how it is, this sort of thing only happens to other ranks, old girl.’

Old girl! She could have slapped his stupid face. What did one’s professional or social standing matter if one’s personal life was in a mess. Somehow she had to escape
this
situation whether by finding some legal way to get him treatment or, and this was something she found difficult to face, by divorcing him out of her life.

Marmaduke Clements, the family solicitor, had an office in Queen’s Square. Charlotte went to him for advice as to what she should, or could, do. She was nervous about seeing him, flapping uncharacteristically as she got her bag and pulled her coat on before leaving home. The postman had been and usually she would have picked up the post and left it on the hall table. But there was only one pale blue envelope. She saw the Boston postmark and slid it into her handbag to be read later.

‘Make yourself comfortable, Mrs Hennessey-White.’ Marmaduke Clements indicated a large leather chair opposite his desk.

‘I feel such a fool,’ she said.

The leather was cool but its comfort was arguable. A few springs in the seat seemed in imminent danger of coming through.

‘Why should you?’ said Marmaduke. ‘Matrimonial difficulties are not confined to the lower orders, my dear lady.’

It was the second time in a short while that an allusion to social status had been brought up with regard to David’s condition.

She told him how things were. ‘It seems to me that he has to kill someone before he gets proper treatment. I need to know if there is some legal way of getting him that treatment.’

Marmaduke sighed and sat back in his chair. ‘Treating the mind after a person has endured frightening experiences is a relatively new science, my dear lady. And you are right, to some extent, when you say that nothing will be done until he kills someone. Now, if this young woman had pressed charges, something might very well have been done. But I will look into the legal aspects. In the meantime, of course, there is another option.’

She read his expression. ‘Divorce.’

He nodded.

‘I’ve been offered a full-time appointment with the Marriage Guidance Council. It would seem more than a little surprising if my own marriage were dissolved.’

Marmaduke nodded sagely as though he was far older than his fifty years. She knew he was a bachelor, married to the law until death decreed otherwise. He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his waistcoat, which only barely covered his girth, and looked at her kindly. ‘I have to say that you are eminently suitable to take up an appointment with such an organisation. Only when you have experienced problems in a situation can you benefit others in that same situation, though of course,’ he added with a raised finger and a shake of his head, ‘I am commenting purely as a layman you understand.’

His last comment made her smile. She guessed it was supposed to. Marmaduke belonged to a dusty profession not known for its brevity but he had a definite twinkle in his eye. Perhaps it was imagination, but for her he seemed to make an exception.

She smiled appreciatively. ‘Thank you anyway. I value your advice. Is there any more you have to give me?’

His chair, upholstered in leather like her own but more mobile, squeaked as he leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the desk in front of him. ‘We can sue on the grounds of his adultery if you can prove any has occurred – or we can arrange for it to have occurred. Five years with his agreement and you’ll be free to marry again. Seven if he doesn’t.’

Five years! Five years would take them all forward into a new decade in which she would be a divorced woman and able to start all over again. And he was talking about fabricated evidence! There was no doubt about it. But was that what she wanted?

She got to her feet. ‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Please do.’

It was beginning to drizzle outside. She pulled her coat collar up as she ran to the car, wishing she hadn’t left her umbrella on the back seat. For a moment she sat in the driving seat thinking about what she should do.

David had a need to talk about things, but how was she to approach this? It occurred to her that he might have said more to Polly. It was a long shot but perhaps it might be worth approaching her.

Thinking of Polly made her remember the letter. The moment she began reading it her hands began to shake. After she’d read it she sat still, numbed by its contents. Polly had to know about this. Once she did, perhaps she would finally forgive her for meddling in her private life.

Full of trepidation, she got into her car and circled the
central
oval of the Centre, heading back towards Victoria Street and Old Market.

It was on a weekend that Matron called Edna into the office to tell her that someone was interested in adopting Sherman.

Her heart almost stopped. Matron came round from behind the desk and gently patted her arm. ‘It might be all for the best, my dear. If you can’t give him a home, perhaps someone else can.’

Edna nodded. Of course Matron was right. It made sense for someone to give her son a proper home, to tuck him in at night, to read him stories, to watch him grow … Tears hung in her eyes. One blink and she’d cry and she didn’t want to do that. She was visiting Sherman. The day was precious and she wanted to be happy for him.

Her other worry was Colin. He was working well enough again, but she’d caught him doing strange things, swivelling round in his wheelchair, raising what was left of his legs up and down eighty times or so, six times a day. His visits to the hospital were getting more frequent, but he was just as secretive about them as ever and it worried her.

Worries seemed to be piling up. The buyer of the toys was pressing for delivery. He wanted an assurance that he’d get all that he’d ordered in time for Christmas.

Billy told her he’d done his best to placate him but Colin had to sort himself out. He had to get down to work if he was to make it in time.

Billy came calling later to see how things were getting
on
. He poked his head round the kitchen door. ‘Any chance of a cup of char?’

She nodded, but her smile was weak. Billy came out into the kitchen.

‘He’ll get going again,’ he said jerking his head sidelong at the door he’d closed behind him.

Edna gripped the edge of the kitchen sink. ‘How much do we stand to lose if those toys don’t get finished?’

Billy looked up at the ceiling as if the answer could be calculated up there.

‘Now let’s see. Five hundred at twelve and a tanner each is … well … over three hundred pounds.’

Edna looked at him wide-eyed. ‘As much as that?’

He nodded. ‘Less my ten per cent as the middle man,’

Edna sat herself down at the kitchen table, her thoughts racing. The order had to be fulfilled. And that was only one! What could she do to help? She eyed the old wooden dresser that she’d painted a warm cream. It was something she’d enjoyed doing. Something she could do!

Suddenly Colin called. ‘Billy! Billy!’ He sounded angry.

‘Better go,’ said Billy looking slightly embarrassed. ‘Tell you what. I’ll call in later with Polly. We do a lot of walking, do me and Polly.’

Edna remained seated after he’d gone, elbows on the table, her chin resting on her hands.

What was to stop her giving up her job as an invoice typist at W D & H O Wills? She wouldn’t miss it that much. But how would Colin view it? There was only one way to find out. Once the front door had slammed shut
she
took a deep breath and got to her feet. At first her courage threatened to leave her and she sat down again.

It’s only Colin!

Again she got to her feet. If she couldn’t talk honestly to her husband, who could she talk to?

She pushed open the door.

He was messing around with a half-finished aeroplane, turning it this way and that as if deciding what bit to do next. There was an unhealthy pallor to his face and he hadn’t shaved.

‘Colin.’

‘Yes.’

It unnerved her a little that he still didn’t look at her. Then it occurred to her that if he did, she might lose her nerve. Her heart was already threatening to jump through her chest, it was beating so fast.

‘I’m giving up my job,’ she blurted. ‘I’m going to help you here in the shop so that you can fulfil your orders for Christmas.’ Now he looked up.

‘It might be nice,’ she said quickly. ‘We’ll be together more often.’

He sat completely still as if contemplating what she’d just said. His shoulders were rounded, and he still hung his head.

She took a step closer.

‘Did you hear what I said, Colin?’

Then she noticed his shoulders. It started as a slight shiver and at first she wondered whether he was cold. Then the shiver grew into a gentle shake. The first sob caught in his throat. The second did not.

‘Colin!’

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his forehead as he looked up into her face. His red-rimmed eyes brimmed over with tears.

‘I’m sorry, Edna. Your mother made me feel so bloody useless! I wouldn’t feel like that if I had some legs. Bloody Japanese!’

Edna grimaced. ‘I’ve felt like that all my life.’

‘She really made me feel as though I was only half a man because we weren’t expecting yet. Then her insinuating, putting it into my head that you were going off with Billy …’

She hugged him tighter, his tears wet upon her cheek. ‘You’re a whole man, Colin. You were before you went away and you are now. I’ll never think of you any different.’

It was a long walk from the Dings, an area of grimy brick back-to-back houses and dusty yards, to Bedminster. But, as promised, Billy showed up with Polly. To Edna’s surprise they were pushing a pram in which sat a baby of about eighteen months old.

‘This is Carol,’ said Polly, face beaming with motherly pride. ‘She’s my daughter.’

‘She’s lovely,’ said Edna and really meant it, despite the sharp pang of envy she felt. Polly had kept her child regardless of the father being miles away. Why wasn’t I stronger, she asked herself, then imagined her mother’s determined expression and sharp voice. Perhaps, if I’d told Colin about Sherman right at the start, things might
have
been all right. It was a frightening predicament. They were married and she still had not told him about her wartime romance. She had passed the point of no return. The opportune moments had come and gone.

She tried to control her emotions, but her resentment showed. ‘And how’s your friend David?’

Polly was taken unawares. The colour of her eyes seemed to change.

The scarf! Edna knew she had guessed about the day she’d gone back for her scarf. Never before had she seen Polly colour up like that.

But Polly found her voice. ‘He’s not well – so Charlotte says. She came to see me yesterday.’ She then turned to the child and began to unstrap her from the pram. ‘Come on then, darling. Let’s get you out so you can see your Aunty Edna and Uncle Colin a bit better then.’

It was obvious that Polly was reluctant to discuss any further details of Charlotte’s visit. Edna did not pursue it. She had her own problems.

But the visit of Billy, Polly and her child had done some good. Colin’s mood changed over the weekend. As Edna got ready for work on Monday morning he rabbited on about how excited he was about her joining him, full of plans for the future. He spoke dreamily of how eventually they’d set up a proper business and employ people and lay out money for expensive machines.