Young May Moon (15 page)

K
ING
G
EORGE AND
Queen Mary also spent Christmas in East Anglia, at Sandringham, in Norfolk. From there the King made what was to be his final broadcast to the nation. In the middle of January, the newspapers reported that his Majesty was suffering from a feverish cold, which did not cause undue concern. However, his condition rapidly worsened, and a few days later a bulletin revealed that ‘The King shows diminishing strength.’ The silent vigils began; crowds gathered outside Buckingham Palace. At 9.25 p.m. the news came: ‘The King’s life is moving peacefully towards its close.’ Just after midnight, a lone figure crossed the courtyard and replaced the notice on the railings….

London was now a city of mourning. Great Tom, the bell in St Pauls, boomed solemnly. City workers flocked to a memorial service at midday in the cathedral. In the Tower of London and in Hyde Park there were gun salutes, marking the seventy years of the
sovereign
’s life. Flags were at half-mast, but were soon to be raised when heralds proclaimed the accession of King Edward the Eighth.

‘They say the new King ordered the clocks to be put back at dawn,’ May told Tatiana, as they sat at the long table in the studio, working together on the catalogue for the New Year exhibition, which had been postponed because of the royal funeral.

‘Sandringham time, isn’t that what they called it? That was the decree of his grandfather, I’m told.’

‘The new King is very different from his father,’ May observed.

‘He is a man of the times, as King Edward was before him. George the Fifth returned to Victorian values. Royalty here is still revered,
unlike in my native country. Well, we appear to have accomplished our list. Will you dispatch this, with the photographs, to the printer please?’ Tatiana paused: ‘Have you a suitable outfit to wear for our big occasion? Please do not be offended, but I will be happy to supply one for you, if you wish.’

‘And I am happy to accept your kind offer!’ May replied.

‘Have you decided when to take your holiday?’

‘It really depends on my sister – at the end of this term, I hope. Pomona wants us to visit my mother in Spain. I’m not sure …’ May hesitated.

‘You are not sure if you can afford this trip? Look, you could, if I give you a business commission, eh? I have a contact there, as you know. Another designer has asked if I would like to display some of her new designs with mine, in the studio, to our mutual benefit. You have a good eye, I would trust you to choose these and arrange their transport. Would that help?’

‘Oh, Tatiana, of course it would! Thank you.’ Before the holiday, she thought, there is someone else I want so much to see….

‘Would you like to invite a friend to come to the preview?’ Tatiana asked. ‘Perhaps the kind Henry?’ They had met, and he had her approval.

‘Henry – I’m sure he would be delighted. Tatiana, I should perhaps make it clear; we live together, yes, but he is just a friend.’

‘He would, I suspect, like to be more than that?’

‘Yes. Perhaps, one day, I will have to settle for affection, rather than romance.’

‘I was influenced by my godmother, Olga. She never cared to marry, but she was successful and happy with her single state. But, you, my dear May, I think would like to have a husband and
children
? This never appealed to me! Have you met the right man yet?’

‘I met him years ago, when we were both too young.’

‘Is it too late now?’

‘It could be, but I am trying to get up the courage to find out.’

Visitors to the West End Gallery were greeted by a young woman wearing a simple silk shift in brilliant peacock blue, sleeveless, but fastened at the shoulders with sparkling diamante clasps. She had
been attracted by the vibrant colour; it reminded of her flamenco dress, although the material of that had faded to a softer blue. Her shining dark hair hung long and loose around her shoulders. There was a soft bloom to her complexion, although the only make-up she wore was lip gloss. Earlier, when she regarded herself earnestly in the cheval mirror, in Tatiana’s house, she had been startled at the
resemblance
to her mother, Carmen. I can’t deny my heritage, she thought, and now I don’t mind looking more Spanish than English.

‘You are the most beautiful object here,’ a voice said in her ear.

‘Henry! You look very smart, too. Have a programme.’

‘I can’t afford to buy anything, but it is a dazzling display. You will be away for the weekend; I shall miss you. You and Tatiana will have a lot to discuss, after all the excitement is over.’

He is assuming I’ll be with Tatiana for the next two days, she thought. ‘Enjoy the exhibition,’ she said. ‘I’ll be with you later.’ She turned to a group who had just entered the gallery. ‘Tatiana is expecting you, please join her and enjoy a glass of wine….’

Tatiana, a diminutive figure in gold lamé, with her hair in a
top-knot
to add an illusion of height, was at the centre of an admiring circle and her voice could be heard, loud and clear. She gestured with expressive hands, the rings on her fingers flashing under the bright lights. The lustre jugs, plates and bowls were displayed on tall, white-painted stands all around the gallery.

May was learning to distinguish between the serious buyers, mostly older men, who examined the items for sale intently, and made notes in small books with silver-encased fountain pens, before moving on, and the press, in more casual attire with rakishly Windsor-knotted ties, who commented cheerfully and scribbled shorthand symbols in larger lined pads. There were society ladies, even a well-known film actor with an immaculate sweep of
blue-rinsed
white hair, which May suspected was an expensive wig. She smiled to herself, thinking how Pomona would have enjoyed meeting him!

She whirled round when someone unexpectedly touched her bare upper arm.

‘May – I didn’t mean to startle you. I knew it must be you.’

He was not instantly as recognizable as Danny had been, with his
red hair. Danny was still boyish; this was a man who was inches taller than she recalled him, with broad shoulders and close-cropped black hair, but the blue eyes were unmistakable. His suit was
well-worn
but he obviously cared about his appearance, with his clean white shirt and polished shoes. The hand which shook hers was calloused as a result of his work.

‘Paddy! I know I told you in my letter that I would be working in the gallery this evening, but I didn’t expect you to come
here
!’

‘I couldn’t wait any longer,’ he said simply. ‘I rang your employer before you left – she told me she would speak to the doorman and I would be allowed in without a ticket.’

‘She didn’t say!’ She recalled Tatiana going to answer the phone, while she was occupied with changing into her new outfit.

‘I asked her to let it be a surprise. I borrowed Dad’s old car.’

‘Where are you staying tonight? I was catching the train first thing tomorrow and expected you to meet me then.’

‘I hope you’ll agree to me driving you to my home later tonight.’

‘But Tatiana…?’

‘She said it would be your decision; she didn’t mind at all.’

A polite cough alerted May to the fact that there were guests awaiting her attention. She also became aware that Henry was standing near by. Had he heard their conversation? She beckoned him over.

‘Henry, this is an old friend of mine, Paddy. He … he is Danny’s brother. Paddy, meet Henry. Please excuse me, while I talk to these gentlemen.’
Bring your bag with you
, Tatiana had said casually before the taxi arrived to transport them to the gallery. Now May understood why.

By 9 p.m. the guests had departed. The gallery staff in their white coats and gloves were carefully packing the exhibits into crates. These would be delivered to the studio the following morning. Wine glasses were rinsed, dried, and replaced in cupboards. The cleaners were waiting with their brooms.

‘I would help, but it seems there is nothing for me to do.’ Henry thanked Tatiana for a lovely evening, shook Paddy’s hand and said it had been good to have his company. Then May walked with him to the door. Outside, it was moonlight, and the night air was chilly. She shivered. ‘You need a wrap,’ Henry said, concerned.

She gave him a hug. ‘Thank you for coming, Henry – and for not asking questions. I don’t have any answers, yet.’

‘We got on well, he and I. All I want is your happiness, May. Good luck.’

‘I do love you, Henry,’ she said impulsively.

‘I know you do, but not in that way. You’re not leaving me yet?’

‘Of course not! I won’t just walk out of your life, I promise.’

‘See you on Monday, then. Go back inside, or you’ll catch cold.’

Paddy held out her coat for her to slip her arms into the sleeves. She saw him looking at the pendant, nestling in the hollow of her throat. ‘You are still wearing it, after all these years,’ he said in wonderment.

‘I haven’t taken it off, since you gave it to me.’ May buttoned her coat to the neck, hiding the necklace from his gaze, which she found disturbing.

‘Go now, May – you must be very tired,’ Tatiana said.

‘I can sleep in the car. How long will the journey take us?’ she asked Paddy.

‘About three hours. The car doesn’t have the speed of modern motors.’

‘I hope Brigid doesn’t wait up.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ was his enigmatic answer.

He tucked a rug round her knees in the passenger seat. It took a few minutes to warm up the engine, but when it throbbed into life, they drove through London at night, where the lights from theatres, restaurants and shop windows dazzled May’s eyes. She soon closed them, and settled back to nap.

When she awoke she was suddenly aware that they were in the country, that they had stopped outside a village inn.

‘Another Swan, but in Buckinghamshire,’ Paddy said. ‘I need more petrol, and the garage will be closed. We’ll have to stay overnight, and leave early in the morning. I can phone my mother from here.’

‘I have some money, if you need it,’ she said quickly.

‘Thank you. I hope I have enough, but I’m not sure. I should have checked there was petrol in the can—’

‘But you left in too much of a hurry.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry. Well, I hope we are not too late to book in.’

‘We can only offer a family room,’ the elderly man behind the desk told them. ‘A double at one end, and a child’s bed, in the alcove. Would that be all right for you and your sister?’

Paddy didn’t correct the assumption. He gave May’s hand a
reassuring
squeeze. ‘Thank you. Is there any chance of something to eat? I appreciate it is late.’

‘My wife does the cooking, she’s already abed. I can knock up some ham sandwiches and a pot o’ tea. Will that suffice?’

May nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

They were given the keys to the room. ‘Top o’ the stairs. Beds are made up. Bathroom next door – no hot water until tomorrow, now.’

Paddy carried May’s bag upstairs. ‘I didn’t bring one – I thought I would be home tonight. I’ll go back down and use the phone and collect the supper, while you get ready for bed. Take the double, of course, the other will be fine for me, remember I slept in the barn on the straw at West Wick.’

She smiled then. ‘You’ve grown since then!’

When he returned she was sitting on the blanket box. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I thought you’d be in bed by now.’

‘I don’t like crumbs in the bed – Pomona was a pickle in that respect! Also, I think I should take the little bed; your feet would stick out at the end.’

‘We’ll see. Have a sandwich. Hope the bread isn’t too dry, but the ham looks good. I suggested mugs of tea rather than a pot.’

‘Thanks. I need the tea more than the food.’ She sipped at it
gratefully
.

‘I’ll be in the bathroom while you undress,’ he said, as she opened her overnight bag.

When he returned, with a towel tucked around his waist, she was still struggling to release the diamante clips on her dress. ‘I didn’t realize they’d be difficult – Tatiana fastened them for me….’

‘May I?’ Paddy moved closer and examined the clasps. He removed one and then the other. The silky material slipped from her shoulders, drooping in a loose fold round her hips. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t intend …’ he said, as she quickly folded her arms across her bare top.

‘I know you didn’t,’ she returned. ‘Tatiana said the dress was too
slinky to wear anything underneath, that I didn’t need it…’ She was floundering now.

‘She was right: you are petite, but you have a very womanly shape,’ he said, without a trace of embarrassment.

‘Would you turn your back while I make myself decent, please?’

‘May – it’s been so long, but I knew the moment I saw you that we must go on from where we left off, though I honestly didn’t plan this.’

‘I believe you,’ she whispered. She moved closer. The peacock-blue dress slithered down to the ground. She held on to his arm as she stepped free of the heap of material. ‘Don’t let’s waste any more time,’ she said softly, backing towards the big bed.

S
HE WOKE WITH
a start and realized she was alone. She felt the hollow beside her in the feather mattress: it was still warm. He couldn’t have been gone long. He’d tucked the covers under her chin. The curtains were not drawn. She couldn’t discern the time on her watch.

A torch flickered on her face. ‘I didn’t turn the light on, May, I didn’t want to disturb you. I borrowed your dressing-gown, I hope you don’t mind.’ He tugged the sleeves to cover his forearms. ‘It’s a chilly morning.’

She caught a glimpse of the blue dress neatly folded on the bed rail. He’d retrieved it from the floor. ‘I don’t mind, Paddy, but you look comical; it’s not much of a cover-up! What time is it? Have I overslept?’

‘No. It’s not seven yet, breakfast at eight. You don’t have to get up immediately. May.’ He hesitated, then: ‘Last night – will you forgive me? I assure you, I didn’t intend it to happen.’

She sat up, clutching the sheet to her. ‘You don’t need to apologize because I was the one who – who couldn’t help myself. I thought you felt the same way! We both said we wanted to carry on where we left off, all those years ago.’ Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She dabbed them with the sheet.

‘It wouldn’t have happened then,’ he said softly. ‘We hadn’t reached that point. No, I should have been the responsible one, being experienced in these things, unlike you.’

‘Please don’t say you made love to me reluctantly.’ She was sobbing now.

He reached across and stroked her hair. ‘Of course I didn’t. I always hoped we’d meet again, that our reunion would be joyful,
and we’d live happily ever after. I’m free to marry again, but I have an uncertain future, no home of my own, and a small daughter.’

‘I’d support you with all my heart. I’m not afraid of hard work.’

‘You’ve made sacrifices already – looked after your sister since you were a child yourself. It wouldn’t be fair. You’ve a job now which you really enjoy, the chance to have an easier life; it wouldn’t be like that with me. And what about Henry? He can offer you more than I could.’

‘Henry will always be a dear friend, but …’

‘Move over,’ he said softly. ‘We’ll have to restrain ourselves for the rest of the weekend. After all…’

‘You still use the same toothpaste,’ she murmured as his lips sought hers. It was the last thing she said for some time.

Brigid guessed, of course, as soon as she saw them walking up the front path together, hand in hand, like young lovers. She held out her arms in welcome to May.

‘It’s been so long, far too long, but here you are at last!’

Cluny was tugging at her grandma’s skirt. ‘And here’s our little Cluny, who’s looking forward to meeting you – I told her all about the Punch and Judy lady! We saw old Punch strutting and cracking his stick, didn’t we, Cluny? At the village fête last summer.’

Cluny’s thumb went into her mouth as she regarded May gravely. She nodded her head, stubby braids bouncing on her shoulders. May smiled at her. ‘I hope he didn’t frighten you. Don’t worry,
my
Mr Punch is retired now.’

‘What’s retired?’ the child asked.

‘It means he doesn’t work any more, and nor do I. Not with the Punch and Judy show, anyhow.’

‘Why don’t you take May into the barn to show her what you’ve got there?’ Brigid suggested. ‘Tell Grandpa to join us in the kitchen: I’ve asked Brendan to put the kettle on. Paddy will take your bag upstairs,’ she added to May.

May followed Cluny along the brick path to the nearby barn. She glanced back at the modest stone-built cottage, thinking it must have been a two-up, two-down originally, but a recent extension had been added to one side. It was a cold day, and she was glad she’d packed
warm clothes and stout shoes to wear over the weekend, but she would have liked to go indoors to relax in the warm.

The barn was draughty, but an oil stove in a corner provided a little comfort. Stout wooden benches ran the length of the side walls, and the wood-shavings on the floor, and the tools, were signs that this was a workshop.

Paddy’s grandpa was nothing like May’s beloved old relative. Grandpa John was tall, broad-shouldered, with a mop of iron-grey hair, a ruddy face and blue eyes like his grandson. He could have been taken for a man in his sixties, but May was aware that he was nearer eighty. He hadn’t lost his Irish accent.

‘Young May Moon, I presume? I’m very pleased to meet you. Well, Cluny, you’ve come to check your little lad is still here, eh?’

Cluny ran straight over to a box beside the stove. ‘Look, May. Come and see what Daddy brought home from the market last week! He hasn’t got a name yet, because Daddy said
you
would know what to call him.’ She lifted up a warm, wriggling pup from the blanket.

‘Toby,’ May said immediately. ‘Little dog Toby.’

‘Daddy says he’s a Jack Russell. That’s smaller than a fox terrier, and your Toby was hairy and he’s smooth-coated, but will he do?’

‘He will indeed,’ May said huskily.

Grandpa winked at her. ‘You can tell this young lady how to train him, I reckon. Pup stays out here with me and Paddy during the day, because he still makes puddles in the kitchen.’

‘What happened to Bertie?’ May asked, as the pup was
transferred
to her arms. She cuddled him up. His markings were very similar to his namesake: black smudges round the eyes, which made them appear larger, and brown ear-flaps. She’d wondered if Bertie would still be around, a reminder of his mother, her old dog.

‘He chased a rabbit out of the cabbage patch, he was ten years old and he—’

‘Flopped down and went to sleep for ever,’ Cluny said earnestly. ‘Grandpa John said it was a good way to go. In action. That’s what
he
hopes to do.’

‘Not yet, I don’t,’ said Grandpa. ‘Did Brigid mention a cup of tea?’

‘Yes, come on. We’ll take Toby, and I’ll make sure he performs by the holly bush, so he doesn’t puddle the kitchen floor!’

Brendan actually looked more careworn than his father, but he put aside the schoolbooks he was marking at the kitchen table, and rose to greet May. Paddy appeared then and slipped an arm casually round her shoulders, as he asked his father: ‘Well, Dad, she hasn’t changed much, has she?’

Brendan’s eyes twinkled like his father’s. ‘I think you’ll discover she has, my lad. You’ve both grown up since you last met, you know.’

‘That’s true,’ Paddy admitted.

‘Sit down and drink your tea,’ Brigid said. ‘Cluny, offer our guest a piece of my walnut cake.’

‘If you don’t like nuts, pick those out and give them to me,’ Cluny said with a giggle.

‘You sound just like my sister Pom at your age.’

‘Pom – Grandma told me that was short for Pomona. She said most people called you Young May Moon. Why is that?’

‘Stop the inquisition!’ Brigid mock-scolded her granddaughter.

‘Inqui – what’s that?’

‘Don’t be so inquisitive,’ Brendan put in. ‘And you know the meaning of that!’

‘Cluny’s taken to you, that’s good,’ Paddy told May when he escorted her upstairs to the room she was sharing with his daughter. ‘This is where your friend slept at Christmas.’ He gave a wry grin. ‘Danny was in my room. So you see …’

‘Yes. Until yesterday I would have been in complete agreement with Brigid! Don’t say anything yet, Paddy, please.’

‘I won’t. Perhaps this is a good time to tell you about my marriage, while we’ve a few minutes on our own. I intended to put you in the picture as we drove here, but you obviously needed a nap, after all the excitement.’

‘I know you married very young, and that it didn’t work out.’

‘Janey was eighteen, I was twenty. She was a popular girl, loved dancing, and I caught her on the rebound from a broken
engagement
. The chap concerned was a merchant seaman, and she was not prepared to wait for him while he was away on a long voyage. We’d only been going out together for a matter of weeks when she told me she was pregnant. Our parents insisted that I should do the
honourable thing and marry her immediately. I was making a name for myself with my work, and at first all seemed well. I soon
discovered
she had a very quick temper, and it was then that the rows started. She didn’t want to stay at home, or to be a mother. Then came the revelation: she couldn’t be sure whether the baby was mine or her former lover’s. I was shocked. I confided in my parents, and their advice was “wait and see”.’

‘Cluny is obviously your daughter!’

‘Yes. But Janey didn’t change her mind: she was indifferent to the baby, and to me. When Cluny was six months old, and the debts were piling up, Janey packed her bags and left. Our only
communication
since then has been through solicitors. My parents took us in, and I owe them so much. They love Cluny like the daughter they never had, and I couldn’t take her away from them now.’

‘
You
can’t leave her, either, I understand that,’ May stated. ‘It might be best – if we don’t go – any further, just now. Don’t look so worried, I don’t regret what happened, but you don’t want to rush into another hasty marriage. I didn’t tell you, either, that I am
planning
to visit Spain in April, and to contact my mother. I’m not sure what the outcome of that will be.’ She managed to smile. ‘Let’s enjoy the weekend now, like the good friends I’m sure we’ll always be.’

‘Thank you, May.’

She moved towards the door. ‘Come on then, let’s join the family.’ My heart is breaking, yet again, she thought, but I mustn’t let him know that. The only person I can confide in is my dear friend Bea.