When Wishes Come True (34 page)

What a mess my life has become, she thought. And all because no one would believe that Charles could be such a cad as to get me in the family way before we were married. Even Gwen, her best friend, hadn’t believed her. And because they wouldn’t believe the truth, she’d been left without family or friends. But she’d put all that behind her if she could marry Philip. She was besotted with him. And Amelia was the only obstacle in the way.

Evelyn sighed as she stopped outside Bessie’s entry door. She knew it would be on the latch, they would be expecting her, so pressed it down and entered the yard. As she walked over the uneven, broken tiles, she decided fate had a lot to answer for. Miss Maudsley loved Amelia and would make a wonderful mother, naturally kind and loving as she was. And the girl certainly loved the little woman, you could see it in her eyes. That look was never there when she was talking to her mother.

Bessie had the kitchen door open before the knock came. ‘Come on in, Mrs Sinclair, and get a warm by the fire.’ She steered her neighbour into the living room. ‘Say hello to yer mother, Amelia.’

‘Hello, Mother, have you had a nice weekend?’

‘Yes, dear, really nice. It’s been a real treat for me over the last few weeks, quite a change from just bed and work.’

‘D’yer fancy a cup of tea, Mrs Sinclair?’ Bessie asked. ‘It’ll warm the cockles of yer heart. And I made a batch of fairy cakes, which are nice and light. I’ll put one on a plate for yer.’

‘Thank you, Miss Maudsley, it’s very good of you. A cup of tea and one of your fairy cakes will be much appreciated.’ Evelyn was seeing her neighbour in a new light now. Instead of looking down on her for her lack of education, her Liverpool accent and lack of social skills, she now saw her as a woman to be envied. She had so much Evelyn herself was lacking in. A warm and happy nature, a ready smile and sense of humour, and real friends. And, judging from the way her daughter was looking at their neighbour, she also had Amelia’s love. ‘I’m afraid I’m hopeless at baking, my cakes always turn out like rocks,’ Evelyn said.

‘I’ll put the kettle on. And I would much prefer you to call me Bessie, that’s what my friends call me.’ She ruffled Milly’s hair as she passed, and was on the threshold of the kitchen when she heard her neighbour reply.

‘You’re right, it is more friendly. But if I’m to call you Bessie then I must insist you call me Evelyn.’ Remembering how badly she had treated this little woman, who had only ever been good to her, Evelyn sounded humble. ‘That’s if you don’t mind?’

Bessie turned and grinned. ‘That’s fine by me, sweetheart, I can’t be bothered with people what stand on ceremony. Now, Amelia, you can help get the cups and saucers ready before yer mother dies of thirst.’

It was while they were having their tea and Bessie’s light-as-a-feather fairy cakes, that she asked, ‘Was yer friend all right, Evelyn?’

‘Yes, she was as bright as ever.’ Evelyn lowered her eyes. She no longer found it easy to lie to this woman, but there was little else she could do if she wanted the freedom to meet Philip. ‘She has a lovely house, a husband who spoils her, and well-mannered children.’

Milly was sitting quietly taking it all in. She could sense the change in her mother, and was pleased she was being so friendly towards Auntie Bessie. But the child had lived long enough with her mother to know she wasn’t always truthful, and that her mood could change quickly, for no reason at all. Still, Auntie Bessie wasn’t soft, she wouldn’t be taken in by lies. And Milly didn’t really care what her mother did, as long as she never put a stop to her coming here every night. She couldn’t bear it if that happened. She looked forward to coming home from school each day now, knowing she would have a couple of hours where she could say what she liked, laugh when something funny happened, play with her doll, and hug and kiss Auntie Bessie. And she had Auntie Rita and Auntie Aggie now, too, and Jack. She thought he was lovely, even though he always had dirty knees and socks round his ankles.

Milly’s lips clamped together as these thoughts ran through her head, and felt a rebellious mood coming on. If her mother ever said she was moving to another house, far away from this street, then she wouldn’t go. She’d run away and hide somewhere until her mother had left, then come back and live with Auntie Bessie. Such were the thoughts running through the head of the eight-year-old-girl who in the last few months had found a love and happiness she’d never known. The prospect of living with her mother, away from the new friends she’d made, filled her with dread.

Evelyn touched her daughter’s knee. ‘Amelia, I want you to stay here for a while until I get a fire going next door. The house will be very cold, so be a good girl and stay with your Auntie Bessie until I knock on the wall.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘You are sure you don’t mind, Bessie?’ Evelyn asked. ‘I always seem to be asking favours of you. But just for half an hour, while I get a fire going.’

‘Poppy off, sweetheart, Amelia is all right here for as long as it takes. It’ll be flipping perishing in your house with not having a fire lit for two days.’

When her mother had left, Milly ran upstairs for her precious doll. Clutching it tight, she sat on the couch. ‘It was cold upstairs for her, Auntie Bessie, so when Mother knocks for me, will you let Daisy stay down here with you so she’s warm?’

‘Of course she can stay down here, sweetheart, she’ll be company for me. And when I go to bed, I’ll wrap her in her blanket and she can sleep on the couch. It stays warm in this room with having had the fire burning all day.’

‘I wish I could stay here with her,’ Milly said, wistfully. ‘We could keep each other warm. She told me this morning that she misses me when I’m not here.’

‘Well, that’s only natural, isn’t it? I mean, you’re her mother and you look after her. I bet she loves the bones of yer.’

The girl smiled. ‘I know she loves me, she tells me every day. She’s never said she loves the bones of me, but if she loves me, then she must love all of me, mustn’t she?

Bessie nodded. ‘That means yer bones, yer arms and legs, pretty face and yer lovely smile. There’s lots more, of course, but I’m hopeless about the names of some parts of me body. I couldn’t pronounce half of them, let alone spell them. Still it wouldn’t do me any good if I did know them, would it? Imagine Rita if I asked her where her hepaglotis is, she’d think I’d gone barmy.’

‘Where is her hepagots, Auntie Bessie?’ Milly looked suitably impressed. ‘You must be very clever, ’cos I’ve never heard of it.’

‘Neither have I, sweetheart, but don’t tell my mate if she says anything to yer. Let her carry on thinking I’m a genius.’ Bessie chuckled. ‘I’ll get it into the conversation tomorrow, and I can’t wait to see her face.’

‘Ooh, I’m hope I’m here, Auntie Bessie. But I’ll have to be very careful not to let her see me smiling or it’ll give the game away.’

Bessie bent down to take the poker from the brass companion set, and then rattled it between the bars on the grate. There was a sudden flare, with flames dancing, and she nodded as she put the poker back in its place. ‘There, that’s better. Yer can’t beat a good fire on a cold night.’

Milly waited until Bessie was seated, then said, ‘My mother looked very different tonight, didn’t she? She must have really enjoyed being with her friend. It must be a long time since she’d seen her, ’cos I’ve never heard of her before.’

It ran through Bessie’s mind that although this girl was only eight, she didn’t miss anything. Then again, there would have had to be something wrong with her eyesight if she hadn’t noticed the change in her own mother. ‘Well, they lost touch with each other when they left school, Milly, and only met by accident a few weeks ago. But it’s nice for yer mother to have a friend, ’cos we all need one. I’m very glad about it because it means I get to see more of you.’

Milly seemed satisfied. ‘I’ll never stop coming here, I know I won’t. So you and me will both be very happy, Auntie Bessie.’

‘We sure will, sweetheart, we sure will.’

It was half-past three on the Monday afternoon when a flustered Rita knocked on her neighbour’s door. ‘Ay, Aggie, I’m in a bit of a dilemma. Milly is supposed to be coming straight to me today, but I don’t think Bessie realised that when she gets home from work there’ll be no fire lit. And it’s too cold for her to take Milly over to a house what’s freezing. But Bessie left me her key in case Milly wanted to go in there for her doll, or to go to the lavvy, and with her doing the extra hour in work to help us all out for Christmas, I was wondering if I should go in and put a light to her fire.’

Aggie’s head and chins agreed. ‘Oh, that would be nice of yer, queen, I’m sure she’d be grateful to yer. And when it’s my turn tomorrow to have Milly, I’ll do the same. Be nice for Bessie to walk in to a roaring fire.’

‘That’s what I had in mind,’ Rita said. ‘But I’m worried she might think I’m only being nosy, and going in there to snoop.’

Aggie pooh-poohed the idea. ‘Away with yer, Bessie’s not bad-minded. Anyway, she’s only got the bleeding same as we’ve got in our houses, so why should she mind?’ Aggie’s laugh was more of a hoarse cackle. ‘Mind you, hers is a damn’ sight cleaner than mine. Yer can see yer face in her sideboard, it’s that highly polished, where mine is full of finger marks. Still, I’m not a proud woman.’

Rita mentally compared her house, and Aggie’s, to Bessie’s, and shook her head. ‘You and me aren’t in the same league as her, sunshine, she’s got her house like a new pin. Mine looks passable until the boys come in from school, then it looks as though it’s been hit by a bomb.’

‘My old ma, God rest her soul, had the same problem. I remember her saying, time and again, that if it wasn’t for me and me brother, her house would be a little palace, and she wouldn’t be afraid to invite the Queen for tea.’

‘Well, that’s settled then,’ Rita said, with a determined nod of her head. ‘I’ll walk up to the top of the street to meet Milly coming home from school. I’ll take her in to Bessie’s while I light the fire, then bring her to mine for a hot drink. I’ll nip back home now and put me coat on, it’s too cold to be hanging around.’

When Milly saw Rita waiting for her at the top of the street, her face lit up. And not for the first time, Rita thought what a beautiful child she was: a heart-shaped face with high cheek bones, green eyes that changed colour by the second, and a smile to melt the hardest heart.

‘Are you waiting for me, Auntie Rita?’

‘Yes, sunshine, I’m minding yer for an hour, like yer Auntie Bessie told yer. But ’cos she’s left me her key in case of emergency, I thought you and me could light the fire for her and give her a nice surprise.’

Milly reached for her hand. ‘That really would be nice for her, Auntie Rita, you are kind. Are we walking down the entry?’

Rita reached a quick decision. Sneaking down the back entry like a couple of thieves – blow that for a joke. The sooner this girl got used to mixing with her neighbours the better. ‘No, me and you are going to walk down the street with our heads held high and our backs straight. We’ll pretend I’m a queen and you are a princess.’

Milly put a hand over her mouth while her eyes brimmed with laughter. ‘Oh, you do say some funny things, Auntie Rita. I’ll like pretending I’m a princess, yes, I will. I’ll put my nose in the air and wave to everyone.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, sunshine, or they’ll send for an ambulance to take us away to an asylum.’

They began to walk down the street, Milly’s hand clasped in Rita’s. ‘What is an asylum, Auntie Rita? Is it somewhere not nice?’

All her life, Rita had objected to people making fun of people who were mentally ill. When she was a young girl, there had been a woman living in their street who’d acted strangely and everyone used to make fun of her. Except Rita’s mother, who had once clipped her around the ear for saying the woman was doolally. And her words had stayed with her daughter all her life. ‘Never mock people who can’t help themselves, queen,’ she’d said. ‘Remember, there but for the grace of God go I.’ Rita was too young at the time to understand what her mother had meant, but she had never forgotten her words.

‘An asylum is for people who are sick. Some people who are physically sick go into hospital to be made better, but those who are sick in their head, they go in to an asylum until they are better.’ While she was talking, Rita could see the looks directed their way. It was very unusual for Milly to walk down the street, never mind walking down it clasping Rita’s hand. But it would only be curiosity on the part of the neighbours, there would be no ill-feeling against the child. They weren’t keen on her mother, who they saw as being a snob who believed she was too good even to pass them the time of day, but none of that animosity would be aimed at the young girl.

When they reached Bessie’s house, Rita slid the key into the lock. ‘Come in with me until I’ve got the fire going, sunshine, then it’s across to mine for a nice warm cup of tea.’

‘Can I go upstairs for Daisy?’ Milly asked. ‘She would like to come with me.’

Rita pursed her lips and blew out. ‘Well, it’s like this, sunshine, I’ve got two boys in my house, and I think they’d pull yer leg soft if they saw yer nursing a doll. They’re not like girls, they like games where they play with balls, or marbles, and get their knees dirty. It’s up to you, though, sunshine, as long as yer don’t mind getting laughed at.’

‘In that case, boys aren’t fair, are they?’ Milly’s chin jutted out determinedly. ‘Girls don’t laugh at them for playing football or marbles and getting themselves very dirty, so why should they laugh at the games girls play? At least we don’t get filthy.’

Rita struck a match and held it to the newspaper balls Bessie had set under the sticks of firewood. ‘I wish I was as organised as Bessie is. She left the house at half-past six this morning to go to work, but the fire’s set and everywhere neat and tidy.’ She grinned at Milly, who was kneeling down beside her. ‘Yer won’t find my house as tidy as this, sunshine, and I’ve been at home all day! Lazy beggar, that’s what I am.’

Milly wasn’t going to agree with that. After a lifetime of living with just her mother, and never even having one visitor crossing their front doorstep, she wasn’t going to hear a word against her newfound aunties. ‘You are not a lazy beggar, Auntie Rita, you must work very hard with a husband and two children to look after. Especially when both of them are boys, and play marbles in the gutter.’