Through the Storm (27 page)

‘It’s not fair,’ Kitty burst out. ‘Everyone feels sorry for spinsters, yet never for bachelors.’

‘That’s because they assume spinsters haven’t been
able
to catch a man, and bachelors were clever enough to escape a woman’s clutches,’ Harriet laughed. ‘They can’t visualise a woman living contentedly alone without a man’s support. Spinsters are automatically deemed second-rate citizens – what an ugly word spinster is, and “old maid” is even worse.’ She patted Kitty’s hand. ‘Whatever you do, Kitty, don’t marry the first man who proposes just so you can have “Mrs” in front of your name.’

Kitty shook her head tiredly. ‘I won’t.’

Harriet removed the flannel from her forehead and said, ‘Lie down and sleep for a while. I’ll go downstairs and make myself something to drink. Is there any more tea? I used the last of the packet.’

‘You’ll have to borrow some from number sixteen.’ Kitty slid underneath the clothes.

‘I might well do that. I’m aching for a cuppa.’

‘Have some Christmas cake,’ Kitty muttered just before her eyes closed.

‘I’ll do that, too,’ said Harriet.

It was past midnight by the time Jimmy Quigley arrived home, whistling ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’ and feeling extraordinarily pleased with life, to find a strange woman sitting in the living room and no sign of his daughter.

‘Where’s our Kitty?’ he demanded. The woman was as thin as a rake and as plain as a pikestaff and he disliked her instantly.

‘Kitty’s very ill,’ the woman said crisply. ‘Very, very ill.’

‘Where is she?’ Jimmy, alarmed, realised he hadn’t given a thought to Kitty all day.

‘In bed. It was fortunate I dropped by, else the poor girl would have still been lying in the hallway.’

‘In the hallway! Jaysus! I’d best go and see to her.’

As Jimmy made to go upstairs, the woman said in a
voice
like ice, ‘It’s rather late for that. Anyway, there’s no need. She’s fast asleep and you’ll only disturb her.’

‘Did you fetch a doctor?’ Jimmy wondered who the woman was. She had an air of authority which made him feel rather small as well as guilty for having been out enjoying himself all day. From the way she spoke, he sensed she disliked him as much as he did her.

‘No.’ She smiled sardonically. ‘There’s nothing a doctor could have done for her that I couldn’t do myself. She’s got a severe dose of ’flu and will need to spend the next two days in bed.’ She picked up her coat. ‘I’d better be getting home. I expect it will be difficult to find a taxi at this time of night.’

‘There’s never taxis round here, luv.’ Jimmy bit his lip. The woman didn’t look the sort to be called ‘luv’.

‘In that case, I suppose I’ll just have to walk.’

‘Have you got far to go?’

‘Ince Blundell.’

Jimmy gasped. ‘But that’s miles away!’

The woman frowned. ‘Yes, and now that I think about it, I’ll have to take Kitty’s place tomorrow, which means I’d scarcely be home before it would be time to leave.’

‘You work at the hospital?’

‘I’m Harriet Mansell, one of Kitty’s colleagues.’

Jimmy recognised the name. She was only another bloody auxiliary like Kitty. He felt slightly less small and slightly less guilty. ‘Y’can sleep in the chair, if you like?’ he said magnanimously.

Harriet Mansell curled her lip. ‘In the chair!’

She might be only a bloody auxiliary, but the curled lip made Jimmy Quigley squirm. ‘I’d offer you me bed,’ he said quickly, ‘’cept I don’t know where Kitty keeps the clean sheets.’

‘That’s all right,’ Harriet said just as quickly. ‘I’ll sleep on top of the covers.’

Jessica and Arthur Fleming lay side by side in bed, not touching.

‘I’m glad I came,’ said Arthur. ‘It’s been a lovely day.’

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ said Jessica. They’d gone to Melling for their Christmas dinner, along with all the Reillys and Jack Doyle.

‘Remember all those pre-dinner and after-dinner drinks parties we used to be invited to at Christmas?’ Arthur mused. ‘I never enjoyed a single one. It was all business, never friendship. We went to the ones we thought it wisest to be seen at.’

‘I think I enjoyed them at the time,’ Jessica conceded, ‘but not in retrospect.’ She’d enjoyed showing off her latest outfit, her newest fur, telling everyone what presents Arthur had given her – which she’d usually chosen and paid for herself.

‘It was entirely different today at Eileen’s,’ Arthur said contentedly. ‘We wanted to be there and they genuinely wanted us. You could sense the goodwill and affection. Penny almost seemed like part of the family.’

As if she’d heard her name being mentioned, Penny uttered a huge sigh and turned over in her cot beside the bed.

‘I’ve missed Penny.’ Arthur turned on his side and laid his hand on Jessica’s stomach. ‘And I’ve missed you too, Jess. I’ve missed you terribly.’

Jessica froze. She’d been hoping all along he’d change his mind and not come, but he’d turned up early that morning, having travelled all night, and seemed so pleased to see her that it was difficult not to be nice. Even though she’d prepared the bed in the other room, she hadn’t the heart to tell him when he’d automatically assumed they would be sleeping together. As far as he was concerned, they were still man and wife. He couldn’t read her mind and know that she considered the marriage was over.

‘Have you, dear?’ she said with as much sincerity as she could muster.

He began to stroke her breasts. Jessica caught his hand in both of hers and held it still. She knew she wasn’t perfect, that she had many faults, but the idea of letting Arthur make love to her whilst she was having an affair with Jack Doyle seemed dishonourable in a crazy sort of way.

‘You know, Jess,’ he said quietly, ‘I’m beginning to realise what a useless life I lead, messing about with fossils and old bits of tile in that museum. I’m cut off from the real world up there.’

Jessica held his hand and said nothing. She’d used virtually the same words herself when she’d explained why she wanted to leave. She prayed Arthur wasn’t intent on making the same decision.

‘Today,’ he went on, ‘the cottage seemed so charged with emotion that you could almost touch it. Sheila and Calum couldn’t take their eyes off each other and the sad expression on Eileen’s face made me want to weep. Even Jack Doyle seemed different, more subdued. I felt like a gatecrasher, not in person, but in spirit, as if they, and you, Jess, all belonged to a club I’m not a member of. My life, my job, both are entirely unaffected by the war.’

‘But it’s a job in a million, Arthur,’ Jessica said inadequately. ‘It’s what you always wanted to do.’

‘You sound as if you’re worried I might give it up and want to live with you.’ His voice was a mixture of amusement and resentment. He removed his hand. ‘You can’t even bear for me to touch you, can you?’

Jessica sighed. ‘I don’t know, Arthur,’ she said. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him bluntly, ‘No.’

‘Does that mean we’re finished?’

‘I suppose it does.’

They lay, not speaking, not touching, for a long time.
Eventually
Arthur asked conversationally, ‘Have you taken up with him again, Penny’s father?’

‘I’m not prepared to discuss it,’ Jessica said flatly. She loathed hurting him. He was a good man who loved her and although he was weak, he’d never intentionally harmed anyone in his entire life.

He turned his head away. The bedroom door was open slightly and the gaslight had been left burning low on the landing because Penny was afraid of the dark. Her face was just visible in the yellow light, long lashes quivering, lips pouting. The sheer miracle of Penny hit Jess with such force that she almost gasped. Her heart hardened against Arthur. He hadn’t deliberately denied her children, but due to him she’d had to wait until she was forty-three, and it was another man who was the father.

‘Jess.’ His voice was barely audible.

‘Yes, Arthur?’

‘You know, if it’s another child you want, then I could accept it. I’ve always loved Penny as if she were my own. I would love a second just as much.’ He began to cry. ‘You’ve no idea how much I miss my family, Jess.’

‘Oh, my dear!’ Jessica’s heart softened instantly and she took him in her arms. It had almost killed him when he discovered she’d been unfaithful, yet he loved her so much he was willing to let it happen again. She began to cry with him. ‘It’s no use, Arthur. It’s no use.’ She convinced herself he would be all right once he was back in the museum and immersed in his beloved artefacts.

They fell asleep and although Jessica didn’t move away deliberately, when they woke, they had their backs to each other and there was a space between them like a barrier that would never again be breached.

Next morning, Boxing Day, they strolled up Linacre
Lane
with Penny in her pushchair, so he could see for himself the garage he’d heard so much about. They were scrupulously polite to each other, like strangers who had barely met.

Jessica unlocked the workshop and showed him the bikes she had in stock. ‘I’ve got fourteen at the moment. They’ll be gone in a week. I could sell two, three times that many if I could get my hands on them.’

‘What’s this for?’ Arthur pointed to a little Austin Seven tucked in a corner.

‘An old man offered to sell it to me for fifteen pounds. I couldn’t resist. You know, Arthur,’ Jessica said, eyes shining, ‘once the war’s over it’ll be years before they start producing cars again. If only I had the space to store them, I could make a fortune. People will be desperate to buy second-hand.’

Arthur shook his head in admiration. ‘I might have known you’d do well, Jess. You never really needed me, did you?’

‘Don’t be silly, dear,’ she chided. ‘You need people for all sorts of different reasons, not merely financial.’

‘You didn’t need me for another rather important reason, either.’

‘Arthur!’

Penny was clamouring to be released from her pushchair and he lifted her out. ‘Don’t take any notice of me, Jess. I’m just feeling rather superfluous all round at the moment.’

‘I said once before, we’ll always be friends. You can come and stay with me whenever you like.’ Jessica genuinely meant it. Now they’d sorted their relationship out, she didn’t want to cut him out of her life completely. ‘Penny will always think of you as her father.’

‘That’s right, so she will.’ He regarded Penny fondly. ‘She called me dada yesterday.’

‘She recognised you, that’s why.’ Jessica didn’t mention it was what Penny called every man she met.

‘I thought I heard voices!’ Rita Mott came into the workshop wearing the inevitable dressing gown, a georgette scarf tied around her curlers and an equally inevitable cigarette poking out of her mouth. She eyed Arthur up and down speculatively. ‘And who’s this?’

Jessica introduced them. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you,’ Arthur said as they shook hands.

Rita giggled. ‘Not all bad, I hope.’

‘No, but not all good either, which makes you that much more interesting,’ he answered with a smile.

Jessica had forgotten how charming he could be. She’d also forgotten how attractive he was in his quiet, gentle way. Eileen always claimed he looked a bit like Leslie Howard. Rita was instantly enamoured. She invited them upstairs for a glass of whisky and a turkey sandwich.

‘Turkey!’ exclaimed Jessica. ‘Where on earth did that come from?’

Rita winked. ‘Don’t ask! It didn’t exactly fall off the back of a lorry, but the Christmas dinner it was meant for wasn’t mine.’

‘That sounds very mysterious,’ said Arthur.

‘I’m a very mysterious woman.’ Rita rolled her eyes.

‘Just the sort of woman I like.’

As they went upstairs, Arthur some distance behind helping Penny, Rita whispered, ‘He’s so gorgeous, Jess, I could eat him. You must be mad, ditching a man like that.’

‘I probably am – mad, that is.’

‘This is cosy,’ Arthur remarked when they entered Rita’s living room which Jessica had always thought was in execrable taste, with its purple net curtains and brightly flowered chintz three-piece which clashed with the wallpaper and geometric patterned carpet which clashed with just about everything. It looked even worse now, positively drenched in Christmas decorations. She recalled how well Arthur had settled
when
they moved from the detached house in Calderstones to the tiny one in Pearl Street. He’d made friends with incredible ease, despite the fact he’d never mixed with working-class people before. He took folks for what they were with an almost breathtaking non-judgemental innocence – which was the reason the business had gone bust, because he was too trusting.

Jessica realised with a flash of insight that in his own way, Arthur was a better man than Jack Doyle would ever be. Yet she didn’t love him, which was sad.

Rita put a record on the gramophone. She had quickly removed her curlers, combed her hair and put lipstick on, and was flirting with Arthur outrageously, and Arthur, clearly enjoying himself, was flirting back. When she went into the kitchen to fetch biscuits for Penny, he said to Jessica, ‘She’s fun. I really like her.’

‘She’s a genuinely nice person,’ Jessica declared.

‘But not the sort you would have liked once?’

‘No, but we all change.’

‘Not necessarily. You might never have changed if our lives hadn’t gone a certain way.’

Rita returned and refilled their glasses before Jessica could think of an answer. She noticed with alarm the way Arthur drained his whisky in a single swallow and held the glass out for more. He used to drink too much in Calderstones when everything had got on top of him, but a glass of beer had been his limit since then.

‘Well, what do you think of the garage now your Jess has taken it over?’ Rita asked coquettishly.

‘She’s done wonders, but then I wouldn’t have expected anything else She’s a businesswoman to the core, is Jess.’ Arthur’s voice was becoming thick and unsteady. I’ll make sure he doesn’t have any more to drink, Jessica decided.

‘We’re becoming quite famous,’ Rita continued. ‘A chap came all the way from Blackpool for a bike the other day, though lord knows what Den, that’s my
husband
, would say if he knew his garage had become a bike shop.’