Darkest Before Dawn (21 page)

‘I wish he'd take me out,' Liz said wistfully. ‘He's gorgeous, ain't he? And he's clever; he's got to be clever to be an accountant, hasn't he? I remember last year – before you started here, Fee – he used to come in some mornings early, get hisself a quiet corner table, order a coffee, and spread out papers all over the table, an' books an' that. Then he'd read and make notes, an' order another coffee whenever one of the supervisors came near him. He telled several of us girls he was studying for his finals, and then one day he came in with a big grin on his face and a big box of chocolates, and told us he'd passed wi' flying colours. We were all ever so happy for him . . . and the chocolates was for us! So you see, he ain't just handsome, he's a real nice feller an' all.'

Seraphina, who had heard this story several times already, smiled a trifle absently. ‘Well, if he's a really nice chap, perhaps he'll let me swap our date from today to tomorrow, when I've explained about Toby,' she said hopefully.

The two girls crossed to the enormous stainless steel sink where Seraphina unloaded her tray on to the draining board. The washer-upper gave them a tired smile and began to rinse the dishes and cutlery before putting them into big wire baskets which would be immersed in boiling water before being placed on the drying rack, whilst the two nippies stood the milk jugs and sugar bowls to one side for emptying and refilling.

‘If it were me, I'd not lerron that it were a feller, no matter how old a friend that feller might be,' Liz said shrewdly. ‘Just say an old friend . . . no, say an old friend of your mam's. It ain't a lie, it's God's truth, and you don't want to make him think you'd rather be with someone else, do you?'

‘No I don't,' Seraphina said fervently. She was beginning to wish Toby a hundred miles away; how dared he ignore her for weeks and weeks and then simply swan into her life and try to claim her as of right? She had liked him very much, once, but so much had happened since then that she felt like a different person. Responsibilities and worries, which she had never expected to have to shoulder, had come her way and the carefree girl Toby had known was a thing of the past.

‘Todd! You'd better get back, queen. There's a big party just come in an' Miss Peabody's purr'em on your tables. It's some sorta women's group – I reckon they're a shoppin' trip from one o' the villages, an' they'll only want tea and mebbe a plate of buttered scones, but you'd best look lively.'

‘Thanks, Evans,' Seraphina said, hastily putting the last of the sugar bowls down on the counter. She flew out of the swing doors, snatching at her pencil and pad as she went. ‘Good afternoon, ladies; what can I get you?' she said, smiling at the hot and flustered faces of her customers. Work began again and it would be some while now before she could even begin to think what to say to Mr Truelove. ‘Is it tea and cakes for . . . sixteen? Or would you prefer scones? There's a new batch just come out of the oven.'

When Seraphina emerged from the restaurant at six o'clock, Toby was waiting. Despite herself, Seraphina smiled at him. He was, after all, a nice-looking young man, with thickly curling dark hair, a strong cleft chin and a crease in one lean cheek, which appeared whenever he smiled. But his navy suit was cheap and shiny with use and his boots, though well polished, were cracking across the toes. Seraphina realised that, since he was no longer living at home, he would probably have to pay to have his shirts laundered and his suits cleaned, and decided that she must ask after his mother and numerous brothers and sisters. She was beginning to do so when he thrust a small packet into her hands. ‘It's for you,' he said gruffly. ‘It's what Evie used to call a sorry present – remember? Whenever she'd annoyed one of you – and it happened quite often, because she was a naughty kid, wasn't she? – she'd take off into the woods or fields and come back with a few flowers, a handful of nuts or a couple of windfalls, and say it was a sorry present for whoever she'd upset. Well, I've behaved badly towards you, Seraphina, and I'm really sorry.' He looked down at the packet in her hands. ‘Go on, open it.'

‘I'll open it in a minute, but first I have to make a phone call,' Seraphina said firmly. ‘You see, I had arranged to go dancing with a friend tonight, only then you turned up, so I shall have to cancel it.'

She half hoped that Toby would show himself to be a real gentleman and tell her to go to the dance, but instead he asked suspiciously: ‘A feller? Well, I'm not surprised, because I saw you bein' rare friendly with them young chaps at dinnertime. But I dare say you have to be friendly with all sorts, else you'd not hold down your job.'

Seraphina shot him a fulminating look, saying icily: ‘I don't
have
to be friendly with anyone, Toby, I just have to be pleasant and efficient. And if I choose to go dancing with someone, it's because I like him and enjoy his company. So if you'll excuse me, I'll just go and make my telephone call . . . unless you'd just as soon spend the evening chatting to Ma and my sisters?' she added. She tried to keep the hope out of her voice but guessed she had not succeeded very well when she saw Toby's cheeks flush.

However, he only said: ‘Make your perishin' phone call then,' in a sulky voice, and held open the door of the booth for her to enter. Then he managed to annoy her a second time by not standing well clear of the booth but remaining close enough, she thought, to hear her end of the conversation. She would have liked to tell him to move further off, but then she realised that anything she might say was very unlikely to be of a private or intimate nature, and relaxed somewhat. She pushed her pennies into the slot and dialled the number, pressing button A when a voice answered.

‘Hello? Mrs Truelove speaking.'

For some reason, this threw Seraphina, who had expected Roger Truelove himself to answer the phone. However, she took a deep breath and said, as steadily as she could: ‘Could I speak to Mr Truelove please? Mr Roger Truelove?'

There was a short silence before Mrs Truelove answered and then her voice sounded rather amused. ‘You'll be wanting my son; I'm afraid he's not home from work yet, but can I take a message?'

Seraphina hesitated, then decided that perhaps leaving a message was a really good idea. ‘Yes, if you please,' she said, rather breathlessly. ‘Would you tell him that – I shall be unable to meet him this evening as an old friend of my mother's has turned up unexpectedly and I have to go home to – to give a hand.' She longed to suggest that Mr Truelove might like to postpone the date and not cancel it altogether, but felt she could scarcely do so.

‘Very well, I'll pass the message on,' Mrs Truelove said. ‘But you haven't given me your name, my dear.'

‘Oh,' Seraphina said. ‘But he'll know . . . I'm S-Seraphina Todd.'

She half expected Mrs Truelove to comment on her unusual name, but the other woman merely repeated briskly, but still with that edge of amusement in her voice: ‘Miss Seraphina Todd will not be able to meet Mr Truelove this evening. I'll see he receives the message as soon as he gets home. Ah, wait a moment, I think that's his key in the lock.'

It was, and a moment later Seraphina found herself explaining to Mr Truelove how an old family friend had turned up unexpectedly to spoil their outing.

There was a short pause and then, to Seraphina's joy, Mr Truelove said tentatively: ‘How about tomorrow night? I take it the
old friend
isn't going to be a permanent fixture?'

A wave of pleasure and relief swept over Seraphina so that she giggled. ‘No, no, they'll be off home later tonight,' she said joyously. ‘And tomorrow evening will be fine, Mr Truelove, just fine. Suppose we meet outside the Grafton Ballroom at eight o'clock?'

‘I've a better idea,' Mr Truelove said. ‘Why don't I meet you out of work? We could have a meal and then go on to the ballroom later.'

‘I couldn't do that,' Seraphina said at once. ‘I couldn't go to a dance in my ordinary clothes. I've a special dress for dancing, and shoes – well, sort of sandals really – and I unpin my hair and wear it loose, and . . .'

Mr Truelove was laughing. ‘Yes, I know what you mean; it was a foolish suggestion,' he said. ‘We'll go out for a meal some other time; tomorrow, we'll meet at eight.' He paused a moment then said, almost casually: ‘Just who is this old friend of your mother's? How old is an old friend?'

Seraphina's mind did a desperate jig and came up with a whopping lie. ‘I suppose she's about fifty,' she said. ‘But a gentleman doesn't ask a lady's age.'

Mr Truelove laughed again. ‘Very true,' he said lightly, sounding relieved, she thought. ‘Until tomorrow then.'

Seraphina emerged from the phone box and smiled brightly at Toby. ‘There, that's done,' she said briskly. ‘And now let's get back to the flat; Ma and the girls will be dying to see you again and ask a million questions, about your family, your job – oh, just about everything, I suppose.'

They had walked a few paces when Toby put a detaining hand on her arm, drawing her to a halt. ‘Aren't you going to open my gift?' he said bluntly. ‘You needn't, of course, but I – I'd rather you did it now and not back at your mother's flat. It's – it's kind of private.'

Immediately filled with foreboding, Seraphina unwrapped the glossy pink paper to reveal a tiny box covered in blue velvet. She snapped it open and her worst fears were confirmed. The box contained a small gold ring, set with three tiny blue stones, which glittered up at her from the bed of white silk in which the ring was held.

‘I got blue stones to match your eyes,' Toby said softly. ‘It ain't an engagement ring because I don't have enough money to get engaged, for I shan't be able to get married for years, not on a porter's wages, but one of these days, Fee, I'll get you a proper ring. Will you – will you marry me one day, when we can both afford it?'

Seraphina snapped the little box shut and tried to push it into Toby's hand, but seeing the crestfallen look on his face, she gave the hand a squeeze as she did so. ‘Toby, you're being very unfair,' she said gently. ‘You are talking of getting engaged, getting married, when for months you haven't even bothered to reply to my letters. And you must realise that when you and I were friends, I knew almost no other young men, apart from the ones on the canal, and Ma and Pa didn't want me to end up tied to one of them. You don't seem to have changed much, Toby, but I've changed an awful lot. And I don't want to tie myself down to anyone. When September comes, I'm probably going back into teacher training and shan't be thinking of marriage for years and years. So don't be offended, but just take the ring back, there's a dear.'

Toby turned a dull red. ‘But it's a present to say I'm sorry, not to tie you down,' he said gruffly. ‘It's not expensive, not really, and I said it's not an engagement ring. I – I just thought it were pretty and you'd like it.' He looked at her with the beginnings of anger. ‘If you don't want it, chuck it under the nearest tram, because it's no use to me,' he finished.

Seraphina stared at him helplessly. If she accepted the ring, she would feel obliged to him in some way and she was determined not to do so. She said: ‘Give it to someone else! Give it to your mother, or one of your sisters . . . but I can't and won't accept it, Toby, is that clear?'

Toby snatched the ring back in its small box and pushed it into his pocket. ‘All right; but I shan't give it to anyone else,' he said thickly. ‘I'll save it for you, Seraphina, when you're in a better frame of mind.' He took her arm, rather roughly, and began to hurry her along the pavement. But after ten minutes of walking along in complete silence, he slowed and looked down at her, giving her a rueful smile. ‘Sorry, sorry; you're right, of course, as always. I should never have bought you a ring when I can't afford to ask you to marry me. Tell you what . . .' He was grinning now, standing the Gladstone bag he had been carrying down on the pavement and rooting through its contents. Seraphina watched, rather warily, as he produced another parcel and thrust it at her. ‘Take this instead. It were what I brought for you originally, only Evie seemed to think . . . oh, hang it, Seraphina, I've been every sort of fool!'

Seraphina opened the paper and then, as he stood up, smiling sheepishly, she flung her arms round him and gave him a hug. ‘Humbugs, my favourites! Oh, Toby, let's just be pals again, the way we were when we were kids, and saved our pennies up to buy a few humbugs. And now let's get a move on or Ma will serve the meal and we'll have to make do with leftovers.'

Evie was mashing the potatoes when Seraphina and Toby entered the room. They were smiling but Evie immediately sensed tension and her fork stopped work for a moment whilst she gazed enquiringly from one face to the other. ‘Mam's just nipped down to the shop to buy a couple of tins of peas and another of baby carrots,' she explained. ‘When I told her you'd come calling, Toby, she guessed at once that Seraphina would bring you home to tea. We've got shin of beef done in a casserole, with onions and carrots, and I've done extra potatoes, only Mam wanted some more veggies to fill up the plates, like.'

‘That's grand,' Toby said awkwardly. ‘I didn't mean to put no one out, but in the old days your mam just cut another slice off the loaf and everyone shunted up so I could sit on the end of the bench. Where's Angie?'

Seraphina had gone over to the pantry to fetch an extra mug and another plate, and took no notice of Toby's question. They've had a perishin' row, Evie thought impatiently, and she was pretty sure the row would have been of her sister's making. When she had left him earlier that afternoon, Toby had been lit up with pleasure and excitement, but now he was looking uneasy and defensive, casting anxious glances at Seraphina's rigid back. Evie wondered whether to ask straight out what was the matter but decided against it. The old Seraphina had been sweet-tempered and easy-going, but then she had just been a girl, or so their mother said. Now Seraphina was a young woman and, as such, a mystery to Evie, and probably to Toby as well, Evie suspected. She lost her temper when things went wrong, sometimes shouted, and expected both her younger sisters to do as she told them, though it was only Angie who did so. Evie had grown adept at slithering out of the way when Seraphina was being unreasonable or too demanding.