Forget-Me-Not Child Page 22

  ‘You mean you know this woman that you’ve never met because of what Stan told you?’ Angela said.

  ‘No, not really,’ Barry said. ‘You know Stan’s not one for bad-mouthing people. Plenty of other people said things though. I was a kid, but I overheard a lot and she seemed to want to control everything. I bet that Roger’s hen-pecked.’

  ‘Oh how can you say that without a shred of evidence?’

  ‘I just know that’s all,’ Barry said. ‘People say she went after Roger for the house. He was one of the bosses in a place she worked at as a lowly filing clerk. Roger’s father had died a few years before and he had looked after his mother ever since. The old lady had become very infirm and I don’t know how it all transpired but Betty ended up caring for her and she moved in completely in no time at all.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Barry admitted. ‘Only that Roger’s parents probably had someone earmarked for him to marry, someone from his social circle which certainly would not have included Betty, or people like her in the general scheme of things. They were middle class, and Roger was their only child, went to university and all.’

  ‘Well circumstances dictated differently that’s all,’ Angela said. ‘Look at me and how differently my life turned out. Happens all the time and people make the best of it. Strikes me this Roger was very grateful to Betty for being kind to his mother. He might have seen a different side to her that no one else was that aware of.’

  Barry shrugged. ‘You could be right. Anyway, they were married and when the mother died a few years later they inherited the house and I admit it must have been a hard cross to bear not to be able to have their own child. In a way I can understand them spiriting Daniel away.’

  ‘So can I,’ Angela said. ‘What I can’t understand is their apparent desire to cut Stan out of his life altogether and for Stan to comply, thinking it’s better for the boy. I’m sure this is all going to come out some day.’

  ‘I agree with you,’ Barry said. ‘But Stan won’t rock the boat unless he has to. Anyway,’ he said as he came to a wooden gate, ‘we’re here now, so what d’you think of Sutton Park? Apparently, according to Stan, we have to come in the summer to see it in its glory.’

  ‘Well what we can’t change is the seasons,’ Angela said. ‘But as I haven’t seen it before it looks quite impressive enough to me in the winter.’

  They were in front of a hut and the man inside it took the money Barry offered and issued tickets and Angela was a bit surprised. ‘Told you,’ Barry said, holding up the tickets as they went through the gate.

  ‘Well I’ve never heard of that before.’

  ‘Nor me,’ Barry admitted. ‘But Stan said this is bigger than anything he had seen before. It has something like five lakes for a start. Anyway now we have paid hard-earned money to get in, let’s at least have a look at the place.’

  Angela had no problem with that and she looked out at the frost-filled meadow in front of them with a playground set to one side of it, which caused a cry of delight from Connie. The slide was too wet and crusty with frost but the swings were all right and the roundabout and Barry was quite happy to push Connie as high and fast as she wanted to go.

  In the end he called a halt though because he said Stan had told him about something and he wanted to see it for himself. ‘What is it?’ Angela asked.

  ‘Something called the Crystal Palace,’ Barry said. ‘He said to follow the stream round and we’ll come to it and if I’m not mistaken the stream runs by the edge of the meadow by that bank of trees.’

  The stream was where Barry thought it was and they walked by the edge of it and Connie tripped over so many protruding tree roots that Barry lifted her on to his shoulders again. It was worth it though when they saw the palace for the first time, for it was truly magnificent. It was built on the edge of a lake and three floors high and on each floor were rows and rows of big tall windows looking down on to the large lawn in front of it. And stretching out to one side was a wondrous structure made completely of glass with a glass dome at the end. ‘The conservatory,’ Barry said.

  Angela nodded. ‘That must be the crystal bit,’ she said. ‘Love to see inside it.’

  ‘Have to come back in the summer for that I’d say,’ Barry said and added, ‘It’s built as sort of a replica of the Crystal Palace in London.’

  ‘And is it a good likeness?’

  ‘How would I know?’ Barry said. ‘I’ve never been to London. It was Stan told me that, but he hasn’t been to London either.’

  ‘So it might look nothing like the one in London and you’d not know the difference?’

  ‘No,’ Barry said. ‘Nor care that much if you want the truth, but I’d like to come back when everything is open, play croquet on the lawn maybe and take a boat out on the lake.’

  ‘That sounds nice,’ Angela said. ‘And what’s that mass of stuff all covered over with something?’ she asked, pointing to quite a massive pile of things at the edge of the gigantic lawn.

  ‘That must be the fair Stan told me about,’ Barry said. ‘They’ve probably broken it down for the winter and I should say that’s some sort of tarpaulin sheeting covering it to protect it from the winter weather.’

  ‘A fair?’ Angela repeated in surprise. ‘A proper fair?’

  ‘Oh yes, with all the rides and a little train that runs round the edge of it,’ Barry said and grabbed Angela’s hand suddenly as he said eagerly, ‘We must come here one summer’s day when this damned war is over. I want to see Connie enjoy the rides and hold her hand and let her paddle the stream or fish for tiddlers. I want her to be free and happy and untimately that’s what we’re fighting for.’

  A sudden shudder ran through Angela and dread gripped her heart. A premonition of things to come? Surely not. Not able to share these thoughts, she said instead, ‘I think this would be a good place to stop and eat the sandwiches. There’s a shelter I spotted at the other side of the grass and it would be good to get out of the icy air while we eat.’

  It was too cold for sitting long though and so they finished their sandwiches quickly. Even Connie didn’t linger. No snow had fallen, but frost lay thick on the grass sparkling in the weak winter sun and crunching beneath their feet as they made their way to the woods.

  The trees were bare, the branches stretching skywards like huge, glacial skeletons and they walked hand in hand kicking at the piles of frost-rimmed leaves, much to Connie’s delight, and atop her father’s shoulders she clapped her hands with glee. Then he delighted her still further when he put her down where she stood almost knee-deep in snow while he gently lifted a gilded spider’s web from between two branches and even Angela, not a great lover of spiders in the general way of things, was slightly awed by the silver beauty of it.

  However, the cold drew them back home in the end where Mary had soup heating over the fire. Angela was glad of it, but the cold stayed within her and she knew it was the kind of cold no soup could ease because from tomorrow Barry would start his training to be a soldier, to learn to use weapons he had only heard of, to learn to kill, a world she could not share where he would have to kill or be killed. She would lose part of Barry to the British Army and she must bear it as bravely as she could.

  So when she said goodbye to Barry early the next morning, she did not cry though her eyes were very bright. She remembered their love-making of the previous night that had an energy and urgency to it though even then, Barry had been careful for he said he couldn’t leave her with another mouth to feed, especially now.

  Barry saw the smile playing around Angela’s mouth and, knowing her well, guessed her thoughts and kissed her tenderly, proud of her control. He saw the tears brimming behind her eyelashes, but she didn’t let them fall and even managed a watery smile for him.

  His mother, on the other hand, sobbed copiously and Barry, even knowing her level of distress, was slightly impatient with her for crying wouldn’t change the situation and he said, ‘Give ove
r, Mammy, for Christ’s sake. You’re upsetting Connie.’

  It was true. Connie was in Angela’s arms and her bottom lip had begun to tremble as she saw her Granny so upset. Mary made a valiant effort to control herself and Barry lifted Connie into his arms and kissed her. ‘Don’t cry, darling,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to cry for. I’ll be back before you know it when I am a proper soldier.’

  It was doubtful that Connie understood everything Barry said but she always felt safe held in her father’s arms and so she sagged against his shoulder with a sigh. Barry’s heart melted and his eyes met Angela’s over the child’s head and she knew what it was costing him to leave them. But it was something he had to do and so she lifted Connie from her father’s arms gently and said, ‘Daddy must go now, pet, and you must stay at home and look after Mammy and Granny. D’you think you can do that?’

  Connie nodded her head sagely and Barry kissed his mother, wife and child on their cheeks, picked up his case and stepped into the street. They watched him stride away from the doorway, a shadowy figure illuminated now and again when he walked under a street lamp. The he turned down Bristol Passage and was lost to view entirely. Angela closed the door with a sigh and saw Mary was poking the fire with vigour and she smiled at Connie and said, ‘Soon have some porridge made for you and I could do with a sup of tea. Puts new heart in a body that.’

  The words were spoken in such a plaintive voice that Angela looked up and said to Mary, ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Angela, I won’t be all right till this war is over and done with and Barry is home where he belongs,’ said Mary. ‘But I’m not the only mother feels like this and I must bear it the same as them.’

  ‘We will bear it together,’ Angela said, reaching out and catching hold of Mary’s hand. ‘I feel exactly the same.’

  ‘Oh Angela, you are such a lovely girl,’ Mary said. ‘I bless the day I took you in for you have never given me a day’s worry and now we can be a comfort to one another.’

  Just after breakfast, mindful of Barry’s words about haste being needed in applying for a portion of his wages to be paid to her, Angela got together her marriage lines, Connie’s birth certificate and her rent book for good measure and put them all at the bottom of the pram. ‘Pity you got to take the wee one out in this,’ Mary said. ‘It’s bitterly cold outside.’

  ‘Mammy, the wind will hardly blow on Connie,’ Angela said. ‘I’m putting her in the coat Finbarr sent her for Christmas with the matching bonnet and mittens and she has fleecy leggings and the stout shoes Barry bought her. She’ll have blankets over that will be tucked so well I don’t think the cold weather will touch her. Anyway,’ she added, ‘there’s no way around it, for if I want the money this is how it must be.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Mary said. ‘Stickler for rules, the army.’

  ‘Have to be I should think,’ Angela said. ‘Oh and I might call in and see George on the way back. I’ve made a list of a few bits we could do with.’

  ‘Are you going to sound him out about a job?’ Mary asked.

  ‘Not with him,’ Angela said. ‘He has Matilda’s sister, Dorothy installed in there now, but he might know some shop that is losing their male assistant to the war or something like that. Anyway,’ she added, ‘Maitland’s is the last place on earth I would work now. And if I ever allowed myself to be persuaded to, it wouldn’t be long before I was arrested for assault.’

  Mary laughed. ‘That isn’t like you, Angela,’ she said. ‘Who would you attack, Matilda?’

  ‘Oh yes, her too for good measure,’ Angela said grimly. ‘But the biggest clout would be reserved for her sister Dorothy. She’s supposed to “help” George at busy times, though I think she must do more to turn customers away than anything else. I made the mistake of going in once at a busy time and was served by her. She is a hard-faced, foul-mouthed harridan. She has a fat red face and two piggy eyes set into it like currants in a lump of dough, only they are bluey grey and as cold as steel, and added to that she has a bulbous nose and slack mouth.’

  ‘Oh you took to her then,’ commented Mary ironically. ‘All right so she was at the back of the queue when the looks were given out, but it isn’t like you to turn against someone because of the way they look.’

  ‘Oh Mammy, if it were only that,’ Angela said. ‘Though if she cracked those features into a smile it might make her look better. She made it obvious she had no time for me, but then she seemed to have no time for any of the customers, goes on as if they were an intrusion. She was rude to each and every one of them one way or another. I got the full treatment and George couldn’t really help because the shop was so busy.

  ‘If it wasn’t for George I would never go near the place, but because I worked there I know when the shop is busy and I avoid those times.’

  ‘And are you sure that it will be a quiet time today?’

  ‘By the time I get there it will be,’ Angela said. ‘There is a rush first thing but by the time we have walked to the Town Hall and back the rush will have gone.’

  She sighed suddenly and said, ‘When I worked there I would often wish he had married a softer and kinder woman … And now he has Dorothy too, and she’s much worse than Matilda.’

  ‘Oh,’ Mary with a wry smile, ‘Devil incarnate then?’

  Angela answered in like manner. ‘Good contender for it anyway. And you know I don’t think George is coping with it at all well. Sometimes he reminds me of a whipped dog. Still,’ she said, as she bounced the pram down the front step, ‘there’s nothing I can do about it and I best be on my way.’

  But even as she made her way to town she thought of the life she imagined George had with the two women constantly badgering him about anything and nothing. She looked forward to seeing him though because she seemed able to cheer him up a bit.

  Connie fell asleep on the way to the town and she was still slumbering nicely when they reached the Town Hall. The woman behind the desk dealing with the forms said they just had to see the child and there was no need to disturb her and Angela was grateful because Connie could be right grouchy if she was woken from a deep sleep.

  All in all it hadn’t taken very long in the Town Hall and the woman promised to process the claim as soon as possible and with a sprightly step, Angela set off for Maitland’s shop.

  NINETEEN

  Angela turned the corner and stopped in shock for the shop was closed and shutters covered the windows. ‘What happened to the shop?’ she asked a boy playing in the street.

  ‘It shut,’ he said. ‘After the man fell over.’

  ‘What man?’

  ‘The man what owned it,’ the child said and added, ‘Heard our Mom say as he’d had a heart attack and died.’

  Normally such matters were not discussed in front of children, but this child seemed to be in the know and so Angela said, ‘Are you talking about George?’

  ‘Yeah that were his name, George.’

  ‘And you’re sure he had a heart attack?’

  ‘’Course I am,’ the boy said. ‘Our Mom was telling Beattie next door and I heard her and that’s what she said.’

  Angela felt suddenly sick as a wave of sadness almost overwhelmed her and she leant against the wall as her legs felt decidedly wobbly. She closed her eyes against the pain of the thought that she would never see George again.

  ‘His posh wife’s still here,’ the boy said and Angela opened her eyes to see him still standing there looking at her in a concerned way.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That George’s posh wife and the other one are in the flat ’cos I seen them through the window.’

  Angela knew he could easily have done that for one of the windows did overlook the street. The flat could be accessed by going through to the back of the shop, but there was an entrance from the street, though Angela had never used it. She thanked the child, turned the corner and approached the front door with some trepidation, but she felt bound to at least say how sorry she was, for though the marriage
was not what anyone could call happy, death is so final.

  Anyway she would like details of the funeral and she pressed the bell and heard it jangle in the flat. And then there were footsteps on the stairs, the door opened and Matilda stood in the threshold and glared at Angela as she demanded, ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I … I’ve just heard about George and …’

  ‘I hope you’re not going to say that you’d like to express your condolences,’ Matilda said. ‘Not needed for I am far from sad. In fact it’s what I wanted to happen for years.’

  Angela gasped and was glad of the pram handles she held on to so tight for she could hardly believe what Matilda had just said.

  ‘Shocked you have I?’ Matilda said with a sneer.

  ‘Yes, you’ve shocked me if that was your intention,’ Angela said through gritted teeth. ‘It’s also the cruellest thing I have ever heard anyone say. I won’t trouble you further if you would just give me the details of George’s funeral …’

  ‘Oh that’s been and gone,’ Matilda said, smiling at the evident disappointment in Angela’s face. ‘Died on Monday and was buried on Saturday. No point in hanging about. As for the shop I am selling it lock, stock and barrel and intend to buy a bigger and better house as far from here as possible so there’s nothing here for you.’ And with that she slammed the door in Angela’s face.

  Angela stared at it for a moment fighting the insane desire to beat on the door and tell Matilda and her sister what she really thought of them but she knew it would achieve nothing and she turned for home, glad that Connie had wakened. She propped her up so that she could see more and chatted to her all the way home and it kept her mind off the unpleasant scene she’d had with Matilda Maitland.

  Mary had broth waiting for them both and as they sat and ate it Angela told her what had happened when she went to the shop. She was sorry at George’s passing and just as shocked as Angela had been at the things Matilda had said. ‘And I’m sorry that you knew nothing of the funeral as well,’ she said. ‘But you know you couldn’t have gone to it anyway.’