Memories of You (34 page)

Helen did not care in the slightest about being her aunt's heir. She had never imagined herself inheriting the house and would not have wanted to. But at the same time it made her very uneasy to think that her old friend Eva could be conspiring to influence her aunt to write a will in her favour. She didn't think, as the doctor obviously did, this was any more sinister than that but accepted most reluctantly that it was her duty to find out what was going on.

Duty? she thought to herself. Do I really owe this woman any kind of loyalty? Helen still felt bitter about the way her aunt had presided over the splitting up of the family and yet, as the years had gone by, she had come to accept that her mother's elder sister had been thrust into a situation she had not asked for.

If my mother and my aunt had been closer, Helen pondered, things might have been different. However, it was the very fact of their sisterhood that had brought Helen back to Newcastle. She knew in her heart that that was what her loving, forgiving mother would have wanted.

She put the letter back in its envelope and allowed herself a smile at the good doctor's expense. She remembered him to be clever and sensible, so it was amusing to think of him being carried away by the crime novels he read. She wondered whether he favoured the classic English detective stories that her editor Jocelyn Graves loved, or if he preferred the more ‘hard-boiled' American fiction.

However, he had been concerned enough about his patient to reply to Helen's letter and also assure her that he called to see her aunt every week. No doubt he presents his bill for his visits, Helen thought, but why shouldn't he? If making money was his only reason for visiting Jane Roberts he wouldn't have urged me to come home and visit her.

Home . . . Helen thought as she tried to get to sleep. Do I still think of Newcastle as home? If I do then it is only the home I once shared with my sister and brothers that lives in my memory. Any home I have in the future must be where they are.

 

‘I'm sorry but Mrs Cook is out,' the girl said. ‘Who shall I say called?'

Helen stared at the podgy young woman who had answered the door. She looked young enough to have only just left school and yet had adopted the manner of an experienced maidservant.

Helen guessed that the girl must be Louie, Eva's sister, and that the Mrs Cook she referred to was Eva herself.

‘That's all right,' Helen told her. ‘It's Mrs Roberts I've come to see.'

The girl was obviously taken aback. Her worried frown almost turned into a scowl before she recovered and said, ‘Oh, but Mrs Roberts doesn't like to have visitors.'

‘Whether or not that is true I am going to come in and visit her. So will you please step aside?'

For a moment Helen wondered whether she was going to have to use physical force to get into the house, but after subjecting the youthful Cerberus to a determined stare, the girl gave way and stood back reluctantly. As Helen pushed past her into the narrow hallway the young maidservant who had become a child once more recovered herself enough to say, ‘Who are you?'

‘That need not concern you right now,' Helen said and she opened the door and walked into her aunt's front parlour.

She almost turned and walked straight out again. Despite the pleasant summer weather a roaring fire burned in the grate and the room was unbearably hot. It was also dim and shadowy. The heavy velvet curtains had barely been drawn and Helen had to stand still and accustom her eyes to the muted light before she could make out the figure of her aunt sitting in the armchair by the fire.

‘Is that you, Louie?' her aunt said. ‘I didn't ring but seeing you're here I would like a cup of tea and a slice of cake.'

Helen didn't say anything. Almost choking on the combined odours of coal dust and extravagantly applied furniture polish, she made her way through the over-furnished room to the window and drew all the curtains back as far as they would go.

Helen turned to find her aunt blinking in the light. ‘Who's that?' she asked. ‘You're not Louie.'

‘No, Aunt Jane, I'm not.'

There was a moment of stunned silence then Jane Roberts said, ‘Helen! What are you doing here?'

‘I've come to see you . . . to see if you're all right,' Helen said, realizing at once how inadequate the answer was.

‘I don't believe you,' her aunt said. ‘Why should you care whether I'm all right or not?'

‘Why indeed,' Helen replied.

She went to sit in the armchair at the other side of the hearth. It was only then that Helen saw how overweight her aunt had grown. Her features were lost in folds of pasty flesh and her floral dress strained tightly over the immensity of her body.

They stared at each other in silence while the fire crackled.

‘You're not all right, are you?' Helen said eventually.

Her aunt's reply was subdued. ‘Why do you say that?'

‘Living like this. Cooped up in an overheated room on a summer's day.'

‘I'm not strong enough to go out.'

‘That's rubbish.'

‘I had a stroke. You know I did. And yet you still ran off and left me,' Aunt Jane said with a spark of angry resentment.

Helen ignored that remark. ‘You've made no attempt to recover properly. No attempt to get your strength back. You've just allowed yourself to become grossly fat and useless.'

Helen saw Aunt Jane flinch and then to her dismay her aunt blinked and squeezed her eyes shut as if she was holding back tears.

‘They keep me like this,' her aunt said. ‘Eva and Donald. They give me anything I want to eat. They say I should rest as much as possible. Louie goes to the library to get books for me – they have my magazines delivered. I don't have to lift a finger.'

‘And look what it's done to you! Why have you let this happen?'

Aunt Jane gave a vast sigh. ‘Because it's the easy thing to do.' She paused. ‘And remember,' she said, the spiteful edge returning, ‘You arranged that Eva should stay here and look after me, didn't you?'

‘Yes, I did. I accept my responsibility. I'll have to sort things out.' She got up to leave. ‘I must go now; I've got things to do.'

‘Helen!' Her aunt's voice held a note of panic.

‘What is it?'

‘You won't say I sent for you, will you?'

The panic gave way to unconcealed fear. Helen was appalled.

‘No, I won't, I promise you.'

‘The child will tell them you've been here.'

‘Don't worry. I'll be as nice as ninepence to her on the way out. She won't have anything to complain about.'

Louie was standing in the hallway, her young face creased with worry. Helen couldn't be sure whether she had been able to hear any of her conversation with her aunt but a friendly smile brought forth a slight relaxation.

‘Are you Helen?' Louie asked.

‘That's right.'

‘But why . . . ?'

‘I was in town and I thought I'd call and see my aunt. Now I must go,' Helen said. ‘Why don't you make Mrs Roberts a nice cup of tea?'

‘I will.' Louie was obviously relieved to be asked to carry out so mundane a task. ‘But what should I tell our Eva?'

‘Tell Mrs Cook I'll call back later.'

Helen smiled as convincingly as she could, then she opened the front door and made her escape. She needed fresh air and sunshine. The atmosphere in her aunt's house had been claustrophobic. Glancing at her wristwatch she saw that it was not too early to have lunch. Although lunch at the hotel would no doubt be very good she had no intention of going there. Even though she had much more than ninepence to spend, she was going to go to the Cosy Café.

 

A couple of hours later, when she was sitting at the kitchen table with Eva, it took all Helen's determination not to give way to nostalgia. During those dark days when she had first come to live with her aunt the young maidservant, not much older than herself, had been her only ally and although Eva had been reticent at first a real friendship had developed between the two girls.

Helen remembered how hard Eva worked and how she had always looked tired, not to say exhausted. Now she was plump and confident, smartly dressed in a fresh-looking blue-and-white print frock and her once lank hair neatly permed.

‘Well, this is a nice surprise,' Eva said as she poured Helen a cup of tea. ‘Poor little Louie didn't recognize you at first, and your aunt told me you were the last person she expected to see.'

So Eva had questioned Aunt Jane. Even though she had little sympathy with her mother's sister, Helen found herself hoping that she hadn't been intimidated.

Eva kept her head down while she poured the tea. ‘I've sent Louie down to see our mam for a while so that we can have a nice chinwag before Donald gets back from work,' she said. ‘I suppose you'll want to know why I stopped writing to you.'

‘You suppose right.'

Eva began pouring tea into her own cup. ‘Well, I know I should have done, but I have such a busy life keeping house and looking after your aunt, and really I didn't think there was much point in sending you reports when everything was going so well.' Helen remained silent and Eva, flustered, added, ‘Of course I would have written if there was anything wrong. I hope you know that.'

‘I'm not sure if you would, Eva. I imagine you didn't think I'd care. And that's my fault.'

In the ensuing silence Helen wondered once more why she had come here today. Conscience, she supposed, and the strongest of feelings that this was what her mother would have wanted her to do.

The table was set with a cheerful floral patterned tablecloth and there was a two-tier cake stand with sandwiches cut into crustless triangles on the bottom tier and homemade angel cakes on the top.

‘Go on, take a sandwich,' Eva said. ‘They're tinned salmon with a slice or two of cucumber.'

‘No thank you, Eva. I haven't come to take tea with you. We need to talk.'

‘Talk? Is something the matter? You look so serious.'

‘It's about the way you're looking after my aunt.'

Eva looked uneasy. ‘I hope she hasn't been complaining to you. She gets the best of everything, you know.'

‘No, she hasn't been complaining. She's too frightened to do that.'

‘Frightened?' Eva pretended indignation. ‘I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. And I'll have you know she gets the best of care. Anything she wants, waited on hand and foot, she is.'

‘I know that, and it's all done to keep her docile, so that you and your family can take over her house.'

‘Take over? I don't know what you mean.'

‘Yes, you do. You keep her in the front parlour and then send her to bed early so that you can sit in there and act as if you own the place.'

Eva was outraged. ‘It's that Dr Salkeld, isn't it? He's found out where you live and written to you. Telling tales. He's always telling me that I should encourage her to get out and about. Out and about! She can hardly move from her chair. I'm just about breaking my back getting her upstairs at night.'

‘And whose fault is that? You're grossly overfeeding her.'

‘She doesn't complain about that.'

‘No, I can imagine she doesn't. But it's got to stop.'

‘That won't be easy. She'll make a fuss.'

‘I know it won't be easy but this way of life is killing her. Eva, you've got to go.'

‘What!'

‘You've got to find somewhere else to live.'

‘But where?'

‘You say Donald's working now? Well, you must find a house to rent, just as other people do.'

‘But if we're living out who will look after your aunt at night time?'

‘I don't mean that you're to live out, Eva. I mean that you're to find another job. I'll stay here until you do.'

‘You stay? Where?'

‘In my old room.'

‘That's Louie's room now.'

‘Send her home to your mother, tonight.'

‘But she's used to living with us.'

‘Well, take her back when you have your own place and for goodness' sake, stop this quibbling. My mind's made up. You've got to go.'

Eva's features tightened with fury. ‘Well, well, Helen Norton. Who would have thought you could be so ungrateful?'

‘Ungrateful?'

‘You were pleased enough to leave me to do everything when you went off to London, and I don't suppose you gave a thought to your aunt from one day to the next.'

‘I admit it.'

‘So why the fuss now?'

‘Because it's the right thing to do.'

Eva stared at Helen with pursed lips and then said, ‘Well, in that case we'll get out of here as quickly as we can and you can look after the old tartar. And another thing, I'll take money instead of proper notice, if that's all right with you.'

‘Whatever you say.'

 

Helen had checked out of the hotel after she'd lunched at the Cosy Café and she had brought her suitcase with her. She carried the cakes and sandwiches in to her aunt and sat with her while Eva banged about the house opening and closing drawers and cupboards.

When it came to bedtime no one appeared and Helen faced the task of getting her aunt upstairs, washed and put to bed. She found clean sheets tossed on to the bed in her old bedroom and guessed that Louie had already gone to her mother's. She didn't meet Donald Cook that night and he must have gone to work very early the next morning. And if he came back after work he stayed out of her way.