Keepsake (33 page)

Red gave an ominous yawn.

‘You must be sure of another job if you’re wasting money on goodies though,’ quizzed Aggie.

Etta shook her head. ‘I’m sure it’s highly irresponsible
of me, but I just wanted them to have a little treat.’ She was building up to her confession. ‘They haven’t had the best time of it lately. They’re missing their father dreadfully.’

‘Ach, I know,’ murmured Aggie, noting that her daughter-in-law seemed reluctant to meet her eye. Feeling sorry for Etta, who had grown so very thin, she watched her playing with the material of her dress that had been purchased in the sales. A dull green, it had been the only colour available at so cheap a price and sucked the life from her skin, making it corpselike. Not the vivacious creature of whom Marty had been so proud.

Then, suddenly, Etta buried her face in her hands, saying with such utter despair that it greatly alarmed the onlookers, ‘This can’t go on.’

Aggie employed euphemism. ‘You’re not thinking to do anything silly?’

Scornful eyes shot up to meet her. ‘I’m not about to end my life if that’s what you infer! No, I meant I have to go and find that blessed husband of mine.’

Aggie breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Well, it makes a change to hear you’ve accepted ownership at last – he’s usually “that son of mine”.’

Etta could not raise a smile. ‘Have the children said anything to you about him?’

‘Not much.’ Aggie threw a shifty glance at Red who looked equally ill-at-ease and occupied himself in filling his pipe with tobacco. ‘Just Alex getting mixed up and saying you’re going to find him.’

‘Yes, well, I know I said that, but in fact she’s not mixed up.’ Etta took a deep breath and plunged in. ‘I do intend to look for Martin. I decided at Christmas.’

‘Oh…’ Aggie looked at her husband and Uncle Mal, her attitude brightening. ‘Well, that’s good…that’s good.’

‘The trouble is, I have no idea where to start.’ Coming to the worst bit, Etta dealt her mother-in-law a sincere look
of apology. ‘Mrs Reilly informed me that her son had come across Martin in the army –’ at the expressions of shock on their faces she added immediately ‘– I know I should have told you and I’m so sorry! I just didn’t even want to think about it at the time, let alone talk about it, it was too painful.’ She sighed again, her eyes desolate as she rushed on. ‘Then on Christmas Day it was so hideous…’ She could not even begin to voice the pain she felt at Celia’s declaration of hatred. ‘Anyhow, the point is that I decided to write to the regiment and ask about Martin. It took months even to receive a reply, and when it came they had no record of him at all.’ Her face crumpled at the memory of that disappointment and she bent her head again.

The listeners were silent for some twenty seconds, Uncle Mal clearing his throat and forming a noiseless whistle, Aggie looking indecisively at her husband, who in a matter of seconds fell asleep, woke, then fell asleep again, before she said in measured tone, ‘They’ve no record of a Martin Lanegan, but they should have a Martin Lonergan. If they were looking for the name alphabetically it would appear much lower down the list and they might have given up before reaching it.’

‘Oh, yes, I suppose people do often spell it incorrectly.’ Having expected fireworks, a somewhat relieved Etta pondered on this inspired guess from her mother-in-law.

‘Well, apparently that was what happened and your man didn’t bother to put them right. But if you have his army number you should have no more trouble in contacting him.’

For a moment Etta was oblivious to what was being revealed in that statement. Then, she blinked tearfully and frowned at her mother-in-law, who had left her seat to rummage in a drawer.

‘I know I promised him, but I can’t allow this to go on,’ said Aggie, her tone softly apologetic as she scribbled on a piece of paper.

Etta continued to stare as the note was calmly handed
to her. Only when her eyes saw the truth writ large did she finally come to grips with the reality. ‘
You knew
?’ She rose to her feet and erupted, ‘He’s been writing to you, and for nine months you’ve watched me struggle, be humiliated –’

‘Marty didn’t think you wanted him any more!’ Aggie defended herself, the onlookers most uncomfortable. ‘I thought otherwise but it wasn’t up to me, so I kept my nose out of it until you decided for yourself that you did want him back.’

‘Don’t you realise how callous, how…’ Etta was too furious to say more but jerked her arms in the air with a stifled shriek.

‘I said you should’ve told her,’ scolded Red, puffing anxiously on his pipe. ‘About the money at lea—’ He fell instantly asleep again.

Etta gasped and became so red in the face it appeared she might burst. ‘He’s been sending money?’

‘Well how else d’ye think I’ve been managing to feed and clothe your children all this time?’ retorted Aggie, ignoring the knock that came at the front door, hurrying instead to prevent the fallen pipe from burning another hole in her husband’s clothing.

‘I could have looked after them myself if you’d had the courtesy to let me know!’ a furious Etta yelled back at her.

‘Aggie just told you,’ Uncle Mal leaned forward to plead on his niece’s behalf, ‘Marty didn’t want ye to know.’

Etta turned to rage at the old man, shocking him back into his chair. ‘But everyone else in the world could be privy to his whereabouts – I’m his wife, I had a right to know!’

‘It’s no fault of ours if he can’t stand being married to you!’ snapped Aggie, finally charging to the door in response to the persistent knocking.

Etta used the hiatus to try and compose herself, but it was difficult with her heart thudding in anger. The children
streamed in then, opening their bags to display the sweets they had bought.

Etta gave a terse smile and said, ‘Lovely! You sit and eat them quietly now.’ And at once they obeyed, leaving her to cross her trembling arms over her breast and shake her head in exasperation at Uncle Mal; then when Aggie came back to growl at her ‘It’s for you!’ she heaved a frustrated sigh and went to investigate with a scowling demand.

‘
What
?’

‘Sorry for botherin’ you!’ Taken aback by the rude greeting, Mary-Ann Binks wrung her hands.

‘Oh, Mary-Ann…’ Etta tried but failed to calm her palpitating heart, then frowned. ‘How did you find me here?’

‘Mr Burdock told me!’

Etta nodded impatiently. Ah yes, she had originally given this address as her lodgings.

‘I thought to let you know as soon as possible, he says you can have your job back!’ Hands clasped, Mary-Ann waited with an expectant smile for Etta to digest the news.

Unmoved, her mind on other things, Etta demanded suspiciously, ‘And to what do I owe this change of heart?’

Mary-Ann built up to her announcement as if rolling a snowball down a hill. ‘You know that rodent problem we had? Well, just after you went the other day Mr Tupman sat on a mouse! Oh, real comical it was, least it was for them as aren’t squeamish –’

‘Mary-Ann, it’s very fascinating but –’

‘Yes, well, anyway, Miss Wimp was sick in front of a customer and old Dandelion got real angry and said he must get the problem sorted out, so he called in a ratcatcher and guess what they found when they pulled away the wainscoting?’

‘Let me see – a rat perhaps?’ Etta’s jaw ached from clenching her teeth.

‘A whole nest of them, and they’d used a chewed-up
fiver as bedding! So you see, it wasn’t you what took it!’

‘Really?’ Etta’s lips had a sardonic twist. ‘Well, thank you for taking the trouble to relay this news. However, I was already aware that I was not the one to steal it.’

‘Oh, I knew that really! And so does Mr Burdock. He says the only explanation is that the rat somehow managed to get into the drawer that held the overnight float and pinch the fiver – he says you can have your job back!’

‘How very magnanimous,’ came Etta’s taut reply.

‘So you’ll come back to work tomorrow, then? I promise it’s safe, the rats have been exterminated.’

‘Oh, I rather think there are more to be dealt with yet,’ snorted Etta, referring to the one who had sacked her out of hand, not to mention the one who had molested her, but this was wasted on Mary-Ann who merely gawped in puzzlement. ‘Regrettably, tell Mr Burdock I shall have to decline his most generous offer as I have to deal with a rat of my own – the one who deserted me!’ Etta began to close the door, then was further inspired. ‘Better still, do you remember where Mr Burdock had his terrible itch?’

Mary-Ann tittered.

‘Well, tell him to shove his job there!’ concluded Etta.

Etta’s fury over Marty’s connivance with his mother took days to expire, and during this phase her yen to have him back underwent a complete reversal. She was his wife, for heaven’s sake, yet to whom did he send his earnings? As if she herself were too useless to apportion them! Nine months,
nine months
she had slaved, been humiliated…

But no more. Now she knew he had been sending money she would have no need to trail about looking for him, nor to lose her house, nor even to go out to work. She would demand that Aggie hand over the next payment at once. How dare the pair of them insinuate that she was too stupid to look after her own children? Well, she
had
been looking after them quite competently enough since the discovery of the treacherous pact and would continue to do so. Oh yes, that was the last Aggie would see of her grandchildren.

At last, though, she calmed down enough to see that this state of affairs could not proceed, for not only did she require money, but she wanted answers too. After taking her children to school that morning, she braced herself for confrontation.

Aggie looked initially shocked upon answering the door to find her daughter-in-law, but soon recovered to say, ‘You don’t have to knock…’

‘I rather think I do.’ Etta was brusque. ‘I hate to impose upon the close relationship you have with your son, but –’

‘Ah stop being so bloody self-righteous!’ rasped Aggie, throwing open the door. ‘Get yourself inside and I’ll tell you everything.’

‘Rather late in the day for that,’ muttered Etta, but nevertheless she left the sleeping baby in his pram and slipped haughtily into the living room.

At her imperious entry, both Red and Mal started to rise. She gestured them back into their seats and took one herself, then instructed her mother-in-law to, ‘Begin.’

‘Are the nippers at school?’ Aggie came to sit down too.

‘Yes. So we may say what we must.’ Etta remained cool.

‘We’ve missed not having them here, have we not, Red?’ Seeing that Etta was not about to countenance small-talk, Aggie rubbed her aproned knees, then launched in. ‘Right, well, Marty wrote to you a few weeks after he left, enclosing a money order, but he sent it to your old address, and –’

‘Of course I was no longer there, having had to do a moonlight flit thanks to him!’

‘Are ye going to keep jumping in like a flea or will I be allowed to finish?’ Aggie fixed her with a glacial eye.

‘I beg your pardon.’ Suitably rebuked, Etta inclined her head stiffly. ‘Please go on.’

‘Thank you.’ Aggie was just as curt. ‘Anyhow, somebody opened the letter –’ She broke off with a warning glower as it looked like Etta might butt in again, then proceeded, ‘– don’t ask me who, I don’t know and I don’t care, I just know it got sent back to him and he thought you’d read it and taken the money and returned the letter out of spite or whatever, and he thought you didn’t want him back – I know!’ Eyes closed in exasperation, she held up her palm to stave off another outburst from Etta. ‘It was stupid of him, I told him all that had happened, and about that man only giving you a lift in his car when the pram broke, but he was adamant, said if you didn’t want him back then he didn’t want you either.’

With Etta looking as if she had been slapped in the face,
Aggie went on, ‘But one thing I’ll say about Marty, maddening though he can be, he wouldn’t see his children go without, and when I told him they were living with his father and me most of the ti—’

‘Only because I was forced to go out and earn a living!’ cut in Etta, highly offended.

‘For
whatever
reason.’ Aggie’s patience was wearing thin, as her tone conveyed. ‘When he heard, he started sending the money to me. I’ve spent every penny on them, haven’t taken so much as a farthing for meself.’

I’ll bet you haven’t
, Etta wanted to fling at her, but resisted.

‘I wanted to tell you about it much earlier than this,’ went on Aggie, ‘but he asked me not to.’

‘Why?’ came the clipped response.

Her mother-in-law began to fidget with her apron. ‘Well, like I said, he didn’t think ye wanted him…’

Etta sensed there was more. ‘Have you kept the letters? May I be permitted to read them for myself?’

Behind his daughter-in-law’s back, Red advised his wife not to do this by means of a brisk shake of his head, though Aggie was already of the same opinion. ‘You won’t like them.’

Etta tossed her head. ‘I’m sure I shan’t, but at least I’ll know what my husband really thinks of me.’

Reluctantly, Aggie went to fetch them. ‘There aren’t that many. Marty’s not much of a letter-writer, some of them are only a few scribbled words to accompany the postal order.’

‘Nevertheless…’ Firm of face, Etta held out her palm for them.

As she began to read, the other occupants made themselves as unobtrusive as possible, Aggie reaching for a flat iron, Red shambling off to hawk various items he had scavenged, old Mal using a magnifying glass to study the newspaper for runners.

Immediately, Etta saw that Marty’s address differed from the one given by Mrs Reilly. She read on. Most of what Aggie said was true. Marty had forbidden his mother to tell her where he was. But that was not all he had to say. Etta’s face darkened as she read the next line: ‘
It’s the best thing for her, teach her to stand on her own two feet, fend for herself for a while, then she might see how hard it is…
’

An irritating noise forced her to look up. Aggie was scraping the layer of soot from the bottom of her flat iron with a piece of emery paper. When her prickly look had no effect, Etta pursed her lips, tried to inure herself to the rasping and continued to read.

There was no explanation for joining the army in the first place, other than drunken stupidity. Well, thank goodness he had not mentioned the teapot business. She was still ashamed about that. Apart from the few derogatory sentences about herself, most of his words were for his children, asking how they were, and the remainder devoted to telling his parents about life in the army. Then, right at the end she saw written: ‘
I’d dearly like to say give my love to Etta and the kids, but of course that would let the cat out of the bag. Even so, I think about them all the time. Maybe one day I’ll write to her. I still love her you know…
’

Etta felt her eyes pricked by tears. That was the stupidest thing about all this, she still loved him too…

She sat there for a while staring into space, the letter resting on her lap. Then, feeling herself under inspection, she mustered her wits and said to her mother-in-law in the same detached tone she had used before, ‘I suppose one of us ought to deal with this sensibly. I promised the children they would have their father back. So, I had better go and fetch him.’

Having made the decision, she was to act upon it immediately, backing down enough from her intransigence towards
her mother-in-law in order to procure a minder for the children whilst she was away.

‘Sure, you’ll be after writing to him first,’ Aggie had prompted. ‘A stamp is a lot cheaper than a train ticket.’

But Etta had shaken her head. Like Marty, she had never been very good at putting her thoughts onto paper and she wanted no chance of a misunderstanding now. ‘I’d rather speak to him in person,’ she had said, before taking herself off first to the pawn shop with an assortment of goods to raise the train fare, then to the railway station.

In the hours it had taken her to journey the hundred miles or so to Lichfield she had rehearsed what to say, first to the commanding officer, then to Marty. For all her unforgiving rants, she found herself looking forward to seeing him again. Would they be allowed a private meeting straightaway? She hoped so, for she had no money for lodgings and there was much to convey before her return to York. She pictured their meeting after almost a year apart: both of them hesitant at first, Marty looking down at her with that droopy-lidded gaze of his that had always managed to turn her inside out even when she was angry with him. She pictured him standing there in his uniform, the pair of them making up for lost time…but of course there would be none of that at first. None of anything if she didn’t pluck up enough courage to go through those blessed garrison gates instead of dallying here staring at them.

Bracing her shoulders, she approached the sentry and asked to see the commanding officer.

Some minutes later she found herself being presented to a charming adjutant who first directed this shabby but extremely genteel and attractive young woman to a chair, then apologised for the colonel’s unavailability before asking what he could do to help.

Outlining her story, Etta told him that she had made a written enquiry before and produced the letter she had
received in reply, ‘But then I was not in possession of my husband’s regimental number nor the correct battalion, so it was understandable that there was some mix-up with the spelling of his name…’

The adjutant frowned over the letter, then looked up at her. ‘Even so, I must apologise for the great inconvenience it must have caused you. Anyway, now that we are no longer relating at crosspurposes I might be of more assistance. On second thoughts,’ he rose and went to summon a man in the outer office, ‘let us have Private Lonergan’s company commander in, perhaps he will be able to shed light on your predicament.’

Etta thanked him with her sweetest smile.

The adjutant told her not to mention it and seemed most happy to chat to the alluring young woman until another entered. ‘Ah, here is Captain Palm now!’

For the benefit of the newcomer, the adjutant gave a précis of Etta’s dilemma, Etta herself finishing with the polite enquiry, ‘I wonder if I might be permitted to see my husband today? I understand that it would be inconvenient, but as I have not spoken to him for several months…’

But Captain Palm was at a loss. ‘Madam, I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I was under the distinct impression that Private Lonergan visited you regularly. He has been issued with a pass to that effect.’

‘I can assure you, Captain Palm, that I have not seen him since May of last year. That is why I’m –’ Etta’s smile froze as the truth hit her.

It hit Captain Palm at exactly the same moment. He looked slightly vexed, then dipped his head as a gesture of apology. ‘Forgive me, madam, this could be a case of mistaken identity…’

The adjutant smiled in slight confusion at his captain. ‘No, I think we’ve established we have the right man.’

‘Indeed you have,’ murmured a stupefied Etta, under
assault from her feelings, the most forceful of these being wrath.
The swine! The dog!
How she managed to keep her tone on an even keel was a miracle. ‘It is just that I was previously unaware as to the extent of his misdeeds. I had thought him merely to have deserted us.’ She gave a mirthless little bark of a laugh and shook her head. ‘I say
merely
, when I do not mean that at…at all…’ Her voice caught, but her eyes retained the brightness of fury as they searched the room for a way out.

The adjutant was, by now, frowning from one to another in complete bafflement. ‘You must think me incredibly dim, Mrs Lonergan, but let us state this clearly so there is no danger of us misunderstanding one another. Your reason for being here is to make an official complaint of desertion against Private Lonergan?’

‘It most certainly is!’

He nodded slowly, a hint of pity in his blue eyes. ‘Then first I must regrettably inform you that as more than six months have passed since attestation, I cannot apply for your husband to be discharged. However, I can –’

‘I don’t wish him to be discharged!’ railed Etta, shifting in her chair. ‘You’re welcome to keep him!’

The adjutant patiently finished his statement. ‘Be that as it may, I shall apply to the brigade commander to withhold his pay so that you may have financial support.’

Regaining her manners, Etta fought to moderate her angry approach. ‘Thank you, Major, that’s most considerate of you, but he’s already sending money. My reason for coming here was to see him, to tell –’ Anguish forbade her to say any more on the subject and she rose abruptly. ‘Thank you, gentlemen, for your information. I should very much like to leave now.’

‘But you must have an explanation from Private Lonergan!’ objected the adjutant, jumping to his feet. ‘Captain Palm will –’

‘That won’t be necessary, thank you!’ Etta rushed for
the door, which the captain hurriedly opened for her. The cheating, miserable wretch! No wonder he hadn’t needed to come home to her.

‘Then allow me to – Sergeant-major!’ The adjutant interrupted himself to call to the man in the outer room. ‘Please show Mrs Lonergan to the gate.’ But Etta’s shoes were already performing an angry tip-tap along the corridor in desperation to be out of there, the sergeant-major racing to catch up.

‘We shall have Lonergan in at any rate,’ said an extremely brusque adjutant to his captain. ‘And find out what’s damn-well going on!’

‘I can tell you that,’ muttered Captain Palm. ‘It seems our chappie has two wives on the go.’

Marty was enjoying a moment of relaxation in the dry canteen, as usual making others laugh, this time with an impersonation of their company sergeant, contorting his mouth so acutely that the words seemed to emerge from just beneath his ear. Ah, but it was good to be able to get this response once more. There had been times when he thought he’d never laugh again.

‘Lonergan!’

At the summons, he shot a frightened look over his shoulder, causing his friends to poke fun as this popular member of their group breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Christ, I thought it was him for a minute.’

‘Your presence is required by the Captain!’

With not the vaguest inkling what it might concern, he rose and quipped to his companions, ‘Oh, it’ll be that medal he’s been promising me.’

His friends mocked, though in fact there was a grain of realism in the joke. Popular with men and officers alike, everyone knew that Marty was ambitious, and despite being a clown in his spare time had been soldiering hard to gain promotion. He was quite buoyant as he left them.

But this light-heartedness was to dwindle upon being escorted into the company commander’s office and seeing his face.