Beyond a Misty Shore (10 page)

‘Shut up, Nora, and go home!’ Frank shouted at her. People were stopping and staring at them.

Sophie stiffened. She’d determined not to get into an argument with Nora Ryan but at her words that resolution disappeared. ‘There is no “carrying on”, as you put it. We walk a few hundred yards home from the tram stop and talk, that’s all, and if people want to make more of that than there is that’s up to them. I couldn’t care less what the gossips think or say. Frank and I are friends. I am well aware he is
your
husband and I am still grieving for mine. Andrew Teare was a
fine man whom I loved very much and who loved me freely and dearly. I had no need to lie to him; he wanted to marry me. But he was cruelly taken from me three years ago. So,
Mrs
Ryan, you can think and say what you like for I have absolutely no interest in you at all.’

Purposefully Frank took her arm and led her away, ushering the children ahead of them.

Nora stared after her, anger, envy and jealousy welling up inside her. Sophie Teare hadn’t even raised her voice but her words had cut deeply. She hadn’t denied being friendly with Frank at all and her voice and manner had been full of open, icy contempt, which hurt far more than if she had shouted back angrily. And she’d pointedly reminded her that she’d lied to Frank and that he didn’t love her. Nora tried to make the most of her appearance, to keep up with all the fashions, and it wasn’t easy given the shortages, but she knew that beside Sophie Teare’s dark, natural beauty and elegant and seemingly effortless style, she faded into insignificance, in Frank’s eyes at least.

Frank apologised as they walked home. ‘I can’t say how sorry I am, Sophie.’

‘It wasn’t your fault; you didn’t know she would be there or that she’d been drinking. I’m not upset, Frank. We are friends, that’s all, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of, but I wasn’t going to stand there and let her upset Bella or use language like that in front of her.’

He nodded, feeling upset and disappointed and he silently cursed Nora to hell and back for ruining the evening.

S
OPHIE SAID NOTHING TO
either Lizzie or Maria about her encounter with Nora Ryan but she was determined that she would continue to walk home with Frank. Nora could think what she liked, Sophie knew everything was open and above board and that’s all that mattered. Nor would she hurt and disappoint Frank by shunning him too.

As the weeks passed, however, she began to realise that what he felt for her was more than just friendship. She’d noticed the way he looked at her, the way he seemed more animated and confident in her company. It disturbed her for it made her contemplate more deeply her feelings for him. It was impossible to think of Frank as anything other than a friend, she told herself. She had loved Andrew so much that to even consider having feelings for someone else seemed like
a betrayal, and Frank was irrevocably tied to Nora. But it was the conversation she’d had with Arthur Chatsworth the night of the party that had caused her to think about her position and she was becoming more and more confused as the cold November days led to the equally bitter ones of early December.

That night, after she’d got Bella and Billy to bed, she had been making herself a cup of tea and trying to put the episode with Nora out of her mind when he’d come into the kitchen. Everyone else was still outside at the party.

‘Did you enjoy yourself, Sophie?’ he’d asked. He’d left the revels hours ago.

‘Yes,’ she’d replied, stirring up the embers in the range.

He’d looked at her closely, having noted the slight hesitation. ‘You don’t sound too sure?’

She’d frowned, wondering whether to tell him about Nora or not, then she’d decided she would for he never gossipped with Lizzie or anyone else. ‘Everything was fine, until . . .’

‘Did someone upset you?’ he’d asked, concerned. The noise level out in the street had risen considerably over the last hours.

‘Oh, not really.’ She’d sat down at the table, holding the mug of tea between her hands. ‘Bella, Billy and a couple of the other children wanted to go and see the big bonfire burning on the bombsite around the corner, so Frank Ryan and I took them to make sure they didn’t come to any harm. We weren’t there long when the Fire Brigade arrived so we
decided to come home and then . . . then . . . Well, there was a bit of a nasty scene with Frank’s wife.’

He’d sat down opposite her, looking concerned. ‘Ah, yes. I’m afraid Mrs Nora Ryan isn’t blessed with either manners or tact,’ he’d said quietly.

‘She’d been drinking, which didn’t help. She was angry because I have befriended Frank. Oh, it’s nothing, we just walk home from the tram stop together, but . . .’

‘But she accused you of something more?’ he’d pressed.

She’d nodded slowly, biting her lip. ‘He’s very nice and I find him easy to get on with. I feel sorry for him, he’s lonely and miserable. His family shuns him because of Nora and . . .’

‘I know Frank’s situation, Sophie. Mrs Quine enlightened me about the Richards family – and Nora in particular – when I first became a lodger here and I feel very sorry for Frank. He’s in a hopeless position.’

‘Surely it’s not such a terrible thing, just to be friendly with someone? Oh, I know people are beginning to gossip, not that I care about that. While they’re talking about me they’re leaving someone else alone.’

‘Of course it’s not wrong, Sophie. I’m certain that he values your friendship, given his circumstances.’

‘Besides, I haven’t got over Andrew and I sometimes think I never will.’

He’d looked at her kindly. ‘You will, Sophie, in time. You are still a young woman and you’ve many years ahead of you yet and it can be very lonely . . . being on your own, without someone who cares for you.’

She’d nodded. There was a note of understanding and regret in his voice. ‘Then . . . then you think I should . . . ?’

‘I’m not telling you what to think or do, Sophie, that would be intrusive and wrong. All I am saying is that you don’t have to envisage a future alone. You don’t have to spend a lifetime grieving for a young man who in all probability wouldn’t want you to be on your own for ever. Who would be happy to see you secure and . . . loved.’

She knew he was right. Andrew wouldn’t have wanted her to struggle on by herself for ever and with Bella to bring up. He would have wanted her to be happy.

‘From what little I know of him, Frank Ryan seems to be a decent, hard-working young man trapped in an intolerable situation, but as far as Frank is concerned, that’s just it, Sophie. He isn’t free.’

‘I know and isn’t that why it would be foolish of me to look on him as anything more than a friend? It’s all he can ever be.’

‘Of course, but I just wanted you to stop thinking negatively. You can’t bury your heart for ever, Sophie.’

She’d felt the sense of loss wash over her again. ‘I can never bury my husband either, Mr Chatsworth. I have no grave to visit, I have no sense of things being over and finished . . .
final
, and I find that so hard to come to terms with.’

‘Arthur, please call me Arthur, Sophie. I know what it is to lose someone you love and if you ever need to talk . . . well, you know anything you tell me will be kept in the strictest confidence.’

She’d managed a smile. ‘I know and thank you . . .Arthur.’

Quite soon after she had confided in Maria, relaying her conversation with Arthur Chatsworth.

‘What he said does make sense, Sophie.’ Maria had paused. How could she tell her sister that she couldn’t bury her heart for ever when she just couldn’t forget Hans? ‘Maybe . . . in time, you might be able to love someone else, but you might not. As you told him, you think of Frank as a friend, that’s all. Just as I think of Ben Seddon as a friend.’

Sophie had nodded and smiled at her, knowing she was thinking of Hans Bonhoeffer. ‘We make a right pair of fools, don’t we?’

It was Bella who was instrumental in Sophie seeking Frank’s help and therefore more of his company. As Christmas approached she suggested that Bella, Emily, Billy and Robbie Ryan write to Santa Claus requesting gifts.

‘I tried that a couple of times, last year. I asked him for a proper casie but I never got one,’ Billy said sceptically.

‘Maybe that’s because he knew the damage you’d do with it,’ Lizzie put in grimly, shaking her head. A real leather football had been beyond her means and not only because of the cost, hugely inflated by the shortage of leather and skilled men, but the scarcity of the item itself. And then there would have been the added expense of replacing the panes of glass in the windows that would have been broken by Billy with his football and the ensuing arguments with the neighbours.

‘Maybe he was a bit short of things last year, Billy. The war was still on, perhaps there weren’t enough to go round,’ Sophie reminded him. ‘Try again.’

‘I’d ask for something different this time,’ Lizzie urged, looking pointedly at Sophie.

‘I’m going to ask him for a dolls’ house with curtains and rugs and proper furniture in it,’ Bella announced.

Lizzie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? That will cost him a pretty penny.’

Sophie nodded, wondering where on earth she would get one and all the furniture her daughter seemed to have set her heart on.

Emily said she’d be happy with a doll and Robbie said he was going to ask for a box of lead soldiers, which prompted Billy to announce he would like a fort, then they could share their toys in the evenings when it was too cold and dark to play outside.

When the notes had duly been written and poked up the chimney by Sophie and Maria, Emily and Robbie had gone home and Bella and Billy were in bed, Lizzie brought the subject up again.

‘I wish you hadn’t encouraged them, Sophie. It’s been hard enough to get them anything decent at all these last years, I couldn’t get him a casie because they were scarce and cost a small fortune. Where in the name of God am I going to get a fort?’

‘Where am I going to get a dolls’ house and all the stuff for inside it? I thought she’d just ask for a doll with some
clothes for it. I’m sorry I opened my mouth now but I thought it would keep them quiet for an hour or two.’

Maria had been sewing some braid on the bottom of a skirt to brighten it up but she put it aside. ‘Ask Frank Ryan, he’s a joiner or carpenter, isn’t he? I would think he’d be delighted to have something to occupy him in the evenings and odd bits of wood aren’t hard to get. He probably wouldn’t charge much. You can make the curtains and rugs for it, Sophie, from scraps of material. You can’t disappoint the pair of them, especially after Billy not getting a football last year.’

Lizzie didn’t look convinced. ‘I don’t know, Martha might take umbrage . . .’

‘She barely speaks to him so why should she take umbrage?’ Maria couldn’t see why her aunt was taking this attitude. ‘Ask him, Sophie. You’ll see him tomorrow night.’

Sophie wasn’t sure. On the one hand she didn’t want to disappoint either Bella or Billy, but on the other, it might make matters worse. If he agreed he’d obviously want her opinion as his work progressed, which would mean either she would have to go over to the Richardses’ house or he would have to come over here, neither of which would please Lizzie. ‘I don’t suppose it would hurt to just ask, he might not want to commit himself, especially as there are only three weeks to Christmas now.’

Maria tutted as she’d renewed her efforts with the skirt. ‘I can’t see what the fuss is about. Even if you could find one in the shops it would be too expensive.’

Lizzie said nothing more on the matter so Sophie decided that she would ask Frank’s help.

She broached the subject as they walked home, heads bent against the icy blasts of wind coming down the Mersey estuary.

Frank was both pleased and touched. ‘I’d be delighted to do it, Sophie. There are always offcuts and bits of wood lying around at work. People usually take them to get the fires going at home.’

‘We wouldn’t want anything very elaborate. I’ll make the curtains and rugs and quilts for the beds. Perhaps I can buy some bits of furniture and Billy’s only asking for the fort, nothing to go in it. Your Robbie wants lead soldiers so they’ll be able to share.’

‘How big do you think they should be?’ Frank asked, already planning to scrounge some paint with which to embellish the finished items.

‘Oh, nothing too big. Lizzie hasn’t got the room for a big fort and a grand dolls’ house in the kitchen.’

Frank nodded. It would fill the empty hours each evening. He’d keep them in the yard under some sacking until they were finished. ‘I could probably manage a table and two chairs for the dolls’ house, and perhaps a sideboard and a couple of stools too.’

‘That’s really good of you, Frank, and both Lizzie and I will pay you for your time and skill. We’d never be able to afford them otherwise.’

‘There’s no need for that, Sophie. I’m just delighted
you’ve asked me. I’ll make a start on them right away; I’ll bring the wood home tomorrow, then when I’ve nearly finished them I’ll bring them over for you to see. When the kids are in bed, of course.’

‘Do you think I could see the dolls’ house a bit earlier, just so I’ll know what size the windows are?’