‘I know it,’ Hester assured them. ‘And it’s not just that he’s nice-looking, he’s kind and – well, and
good
, somehow. We want to marry in the spring,’ she concluded.
It was not encouraged for the patients to wander in and out of the ward, particularly in the evening after visiting, when the hot drinks trolley and the last medication round would soon appear, but Hester nipped out and along to Eileen’s side ward, where she found her friend nursing her little boy and reading
Peg’s Paper
over the top of his mossy head. Hester slipped into the tiny room, holding out the box in one white-swathed hand. ‘Dick’s bought me a ring; he says I can wear it round my neck until the bandages come off,’ she said. ‘So I suppose you might say we’re officially engaged, though he wants me to choose a ring for myself as soon as I’m up and about. Not that I shall,’ she added, before Eileen had done more than smile at her, ‘since this little ring – the one
he
chose for me – is simply the loveliest, prettiest thing I could possibly imagine. Has Tom visited you this evening?’
‘He has. They almost had to chuck him out when the bell went,’ Eileen said, with evident pride. ‘He were holdin’ young Jimmy here … he dotes on the
kid, honest to God he does, Hes. He likes it that everyone thinks the baby’s his as well as mine and as I said to your Dick when he came callin’ yesterday, there’s no reason why anyone need know different. We won’t be goin’ back to the Stanny when we leave here, because apart from the fact that Number 10 was pretty well burnt out – our floor, I mean – Tom’s purrin for a transfer to Crewe. He went and saw some lodgings, says the cottage were nice an’ clean and the landlady the same. He says Crewe’s a right nice place, very countrified, but that’ll suit yours truly fine. So we shan’t be here long,’ she ended.
‘I’ll miss you,’ Hester said ruefully, but presently, making her way back to the main ward, she thought that the loss of Eileen’s companionship would be less painful because she would be with Dick and the other Baileys. They were a grand family, and Mrs Bailey had told Hester that she might stay as long as she liked, though she had also said that she thought Hester and Dick ought to marry as soon as they could find somewhere to live.
‘We’ll manage, me an’ Ben an’ young Phyllis,’ she had said stoutly, though she could not prevent a little worry crease from appearing between her brows. ‘When Ted’s settled he’ll send money – did Dick tell you, Ruby’s suddenly discovered she ain’t expectin’ after all? Well, truth to tell’ – she had lowered her voice – ‘her father come round, he an’ Dick gorrin a huddle, then there were money changin’ hands and next thing we knew … but there, least said soonest mended, I always say. But our Ted’s safe.’
Hester had had no idea what Mrs Bailey had been talking about but Eileen, far worldlier in some ways than her friend, had enlightened her. ‘That Ruby had an abortion,’ she had said airily. ‘Her dad must ‘ave
asked Dick for the money to pay for the operation, or perhaps they went halves, you never know. Gals like Ruby always take the easy way out if the feller lets ’em down. An’ they make lousy mams, so it’s a good thing, by an’ large.’
So now Hester, returning to her own ward, realised that she was looking forward to the future once more. Things always turned out for the best, she told herself as she climbed between the sheets.
Several weeks had passed since Hester had left the hospital and now, outside, a wind almost strong enough to be described as a gale was whipping the brightly coloured leaves from the trees, piling them up in drifts around the bases of statues and in the gutters. Hester had not yet returned to the bakery, since the hospital doctor had said the scars on her hands must heal completely before she did any heavy work, but presently she meant to go up to the clinic on Brougham Terrace to see the doctor there. She usually saw Dr Merchison, and was pretty sure that he would clear her for work since her hands now bore only faint traces of the original burns.
She had been polishing Mrs Bailey’s collection of brass animals. Sitting at the kitchen table with the brass spread out around her, she surveyed her work with some satisfaction. The brass was kept in the front room, and because they had not yet started lighting the fire in there of an evening the ornaments had not been particularly dirty. However, they had yellowed, as brass will, and now they were gleaming white-gold. They would look delightful when taken back into the room and grouped on the long slate mantelpiece.
‘Ah, you’ve done ’em!’ Mrs Bailey stood in the doorway for a moment, her arms full of clean linen, then closed the door hastily as the wind swirled some dead leaves in after her. ‘Don’t they look grand
when they’s newly cleaned! I were goin’ to keep you company, ironing this lot, but I see I’m too late. Still, if you’re in a polishin’ mood, you might like to give me cutlery the once over.’
‘Of course I will, but I’ll make us both a cup of tea first,’ Hester said readily, getting to her feet. She was halfway across the kitchen when someone knocked on the front door. Hester pulled the kettle over the fire and then went up the short corridor. Friends and neighbours automatically came to the back, but council officials and insurance salesmen found it easier to knock on your front door, so she assumed the caller to be someone like that.
It was a sunny day and when she first opened the door she was blinded by a shaft of sunlight falling directly upon her face. She stepped back, about to ask the caller their business, when a small figure hurtled into the hallway and two arms were flung round her waist. ‘Hester, oh, Hester! It’s me, Lonnie, and Rosalind! We’ve come to call on you. We were so sorry about the fire and your being hurt. It must have been awful. Oh, Hester, it’s
so
good to see you!’
‘Lonnie! Rosalind!’ Hester gasped, returning Lonnie’s hug. ‘This is wonderful! I didn’t expect you so soon. Oh, but we can’t stand here talking in the hall. Come through to the kitchen. I was just about to make a cup of tea.’
Mrs Bailey was as delighted as Hester to see their guests, and the four of them settled themselves comfortably round the table as Rosalind began her story. ‘After Dick’s letter came, explaining about the fire, we realised that you would not be able to join us in India, Hester. Since school term starts in September and Lonnie was keen to get back to Liverpool, my husband booked us both on the next liner to sail from
Bombay and here we are. We wrote to the school, of course, telling them when we would be arriving, but Lonnie wanted to surprise you. I hope it hasn’t been an unpleasant surprise?
‘Then, soon after we had Dick’s letter, we had a letter from Miss Hutchinson. Apparently, Miss Hetherington-Smith had had a fall. She had been coming downstairs with a candle in her hand, since she had had the electricity cut off. A few stairs from the top, she slipped in a puddle of candle grease and descended the flight a good deal faster than she intended. She broke her collar-bone and the bone in her upper arm, as well as dislocating her shoulder, and was taken to hospital at once. Miss Hutchinson gave it as her opinion that when she came out she would be a great deal better off in a residential Home for the Elderly since she herself – Miss Hutchinson, that is – is no longer capable of curbing her employer’s sudden whims and strange fancies.’
‘Oh, poor Miss Hetherington-Smith,’ Hester cried involuntarily. ‘But I’m sure Hutch – Miss Hutchinson – is right; Miss Hetherington-Smith will be properly cared for in a good residential home.’
Lonnie, who had listened to the story in silence, piped up at this point. ‘I told Daddy how horrible his sister had been to you and me, Hester, and he was very angry with her. But even so, he said she’s family, so we couldn’t just desert her, even if she deserved it. So Ros and I are going to see the old misery in hospital and then Rosalind will settle her into this residential home and arrange the sale of the house in Shaw Street.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Hester said, trying to suppress a smile, ‘but what will Miss Hutchinson do, I wonder?’
‘My husband is going to pay her a pension and she intends to move into a small terraced house on the outskirts of the city,’ Rosalind said.
Mrs Bailey, who had been listening intently as the others spoke, nodded sagely. ‘And he’ll get a right good price for that house in Shaw Street, because it’s a fashionable district and Hester tells me it’s a grand house with a lovely garden,’ she said. ‘But, Lonnie, wasn’t you tempted to stay in India with your stepmother and father?’
Rosalind started to speak but Lonnie cut in. ‘India’s lovely in lots of ways but I’d forgotten how dreadful the heat can be,’ she said. ‘And though I was very unhappy at St Catherine’s, I really enjoyed being with other girls and working in classes of twenty or so. I wanted to come back to Liverpool and go to that lovely school which Rosalind and I visited when we were here last, but I dreaded living with someone I didn’t know, someone who might turn out to be as bad as Aunt Emmeline. And then Rosalind had another letter from Dick, explaining that he and Hester were engaged to be married, and Ros had her bright idea.’
‘Well, it was an idea, but whether it was a bright one or not is for you to say,’ Rosalind said, looking directly at Hester. ‘I thought that if Mr Hetherington-Smith bought a small house not too far from the school, you and Dick might move into it and take this terrible child as a sort of permanent boarder. You wouldn’t have to teach her, you would only have to see that she did her homework and that she did not step out of line. You were like a mother to her in Shaw Street and that is what Leonard and I want for her now. We would pay you a proper salary, of course,’ she added hastily, ‘because Leonard would
not want you to go out to work. Is there – is there any chance of your agreeing to this plan, Hester? What would Dick think, do you suppose?’
Hester could feel a broad smile spreading across her face. She looked at Mrs Bailey, who was beaming, and at Lonnie, who was hopping up and down on her chair. ‘I’ll ask Dick as soon as he comes in, but I’m sure he’ll be as delighted as I am with the idea,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It’s extremely generous of you and Mr Hetherington-Smith. Oh, Rosalind, it all sounds like a dream come true!’
It was December and outside Madison’s pet shop the snow whirled steadily down from a darkening sky, turning Heyworth Street into a fairyland. The shop windows were bright with coloured lights and Christmas displays but in the pet shop all was quiet, for the weather had sent most shoppers home early.
‘I reckon we might as well clean down and start packin’ up, young feller,’ Mr Madison said, rather gloomily, peering out through the glass panel in the door. ‘We shan’t do much trade for the next four or five days – ’cept for youngsters and their mams and dads comin’ in to reserve the animals they’ll buy on Christmas Eve – so we might as well get the place ship-shape.’ He glanced across at Ben, who was cleaning out the big rabbit cage and spreading a thick layer of sawdust on the floor. ‘It’s your brother’s wedding tomorrer, ain’t it? I bet you’re excited, ain’t you? Though I dare say the house is upside down, what wi’ Miss Elliott and Lonnie crammed in wi’ the rest of you. I tek it the house hunting went all right in the end?’
‘Oh aye, they’ve got a real nice house on Devonshire Road,’ Ben admitted. ‘Nobbut I thought they’d never
find anything which would please Lonnie; I tell you, Mr Madison, that gal’s enough to drive anyone crazy! It weren’t the house itself so much as the garden. She wanted a lawn to play games on, apple and pear trees to climb, a Wendy house, wharrever that may be, enough room for a run so’s she could keep hens and rabbits … there were no pleasing her.’
‘But you said they’d found somewhere,’ Mr Madison reminded him, filling water bowls and inserting them delicately into his bird cages. ‘Has the house in Devonshire Road met wi’ Lonnie’s approval then?’
‘Oh aye. It’s gorra nice garden with fruit trees down the bottom end and room for a hen run and a couple of rabbit hutches. There ain’t much of a lawn, but Hester told the young madam she can play games in Prince’s Park, because it’s only just down the road. It’s a grand house,’ he continued enthusiastically. ‘They’ve got three big bedrooms and an indoor lavvy, as well as a proper bathroom. Wharrabout that, eh?’
‘That sounds real nice,’ Mr Madison said appreciatively. ‘They won’t know what to do wi’ theirselves in all that space, after Elmore Street.’
Ben sniffed. ‘I don’t say we ain’t been a bit crowded,’ he admitted grudgingly. ‘But Dick moved into our Millie’s spare room so he and Hester weren’t livin’ under the same roof before they got wed. That’s meant I’ve had the boys’ room to meself. Still an’ all, I know what you mean. Hester’s a grand person, an’ she’s been a great help to me mam, but it’ll be nice to have the house to ourselves again.’
‘I reckon you’ll miss Lonnie, wharrever you may say,’ Mr Madison observed. ‘How’s she gettin’ on at the new school? I know she hated St Catherine’s, but this new place is a different kettle o’ fish, ain’t it?’
‘Oh aye, she’s real happy at the new school,’ Ben
agreed. ‘And though I grumble, she’s norra bad kid, not really. Well, if I didn’t like her quite a lot, I wouldn’t be buyin’ her the white kitten for Christmas.’ He jerked his thumb at the cage full of kittens, smiling delightedly as the white one, almost as though it knew it was being talked of, came prancing over to the wire and miaowed hopefully at him. ‘She’s goin’ to be tickled pink with Whitie,’ he finished triumphantly.
Mr Madison straightened up and turned to look at the kittens. ‘It’s the best of the bunch, easily the prettiest of the litter,’ he agreed. ‘But how will it get on wi’ the growed cat, what she bought last year? I suppose she gorrit back from the old lady when the house was sold?’
‘No, ’cos the maid, Mollie, took Kitty with her when she was sacked and went to work in Crosby. It turned out to be a grand little mouser, and the new people have got real fond of it and didn’t want to lerrit go, so Lonnie has let them keep it. That’s why Hester agreed that I might buy the kid another kitten for a Christmas box.’
‘Cats does grow attached to places as well as to people, so I guess young Lonnie’s done the right thing in letting the new folk keep the cat,’ Mr Madison observed. He pushed the last water pot into the last cage and walked over to the door to peer out. ‘It’s still snowing quite fast, though I doubt it will lay unless we have a sharp frost overnight,’ he said. ‘D’you want to help me close down, or are you eager to gerroff home in case the storm grows worse?’
‘I’ll stay,’ Ben said. The women of the house had been cooking and baking for days and since they had strictly forbidden either Phyllis or himself to so much as touch the goodies, which would not be eaten until
the wedding reception, he rarely went home until he was sure that the evening meal would be on the table. Not that it was much of an evening meal at present. Bread and scrape and a mug of tea, or possibly fish and chips from the shop up the road, was all that Mrs Bailey could manage. If he got home early, Ben knew that the chances were he would be dispatched to Briggs’s Bakery with a tray of uncooked rolls or cakes. Later, he would be sent out once more to fetch the finished goods home again, so he might as well stay at Madison’s until the work was finished.
He said as much to Mr Madison, who laughed but said, philosophically, that he must remember it was all in a good cause. ‘You’ll be feedin’ your face with all the good things tomorrer,’ he reminded his young friend. ‘I think the snow’s easin’ off a bit, too, so you’ll mebbe get home drier if you wait for a bit.’
The following morning was cold but clear, with pale sunshine melting the last of the previous day’s snow. Lonnie and Phyllis, in their scarlet velvet bridesmaids’ dresses and little white fur shoulder capes, were hovering nervously outside the church, waiting for the bride to appear. They had travelled from Elmore Street in a beautiful black car, which had impressed Phyllis so much that she had not opened her mouth once on the journey. Lonnie, of course, used to cars, taxi cabs and other vehicles, was not so overawed, but now that they had actually reached the church she was beginning to feel a little uneasy. Mrs Bailey had travelled in the car with the two girls and now began fussing over the stiff little posies of white violets they held.
‘Don’t forget to pick up the bride’s train as she goes past you into the church,’ Mrs Bailey reminded
them. ‘It’s a great shame that Hester has no relatives of her own in England, but Millie’s Frank is a kind, steady sort of chap and he’ll do the givin’ away bit beautifully, I’m sure. Hey up, kids, here comes the bridal car.’
The car swooped to a halt beside them and Frank jumped out, then helped Hester to alight. Lonnie thought she had never seen her governess look so breathtakingly beautiful. Hester’s short dark curls were caught up on the top of her head by a wreath of artificial white roses. Despite the white veil, Lonnie could see that her dark eyes were brilliant with excitement and the soft pink lips curled into a smile as she saw the girls come forward to pick up her train. ‘Good thing it isn’t actually snowing,’ she whispered as Phyllis and Lonnie pounced on the ruched satin, lifting it carefully clear of the paving stones. The bridesmaids’ dresses and Hester’s bridal gown had been a gift from Rosalind before she had left for India once more. ‘Oh, Mrs Bailey, when you think how it snowed yesterday, Dick and I are very lucky that it didn’t lay underfoot. I’m shaking anyway, though with nerves not with cold.’