Lost & Found (11 page)

‘Don’t give up, Mavis. Now come on, cheer up
and tell me, did your mother buy you that pretty cardigan?’

‘No, it was Pete, my dad’s friend. He’s always round our place now.’ And unable to stop, Mavis blurted, ‘He…he sits in my dad’s chair, and today he called me his girl. I ain’t his girl, Mrs Pugh. I ain’t.’

‘Mavis, I know you’re upset and it’s understandable, but don’t forget your diction. Ain’t sounds so common.’

‘Yes, yes, sorry,’ Mavis mumbled. She knew Mrs Pugh found her diction grating and did her best to speak nicely in front of her.

‘Oh, Mavis, I can see I’ve upset you. And on your birthday too.’

‘No, no, it isn’t you. It…it’s just that Pete seems to be taking my dad’s place.’

‘He could never do that, my dear. But tell me, you said he’s always at your house. Does he sleep there too?’

‘Oh, no. He comes round a couple of evenings a week, and every weekend, but he doesn’t stay.’

‘And it upsets you to see him?’

Mavis had seen the way her mother sometimes looked at Pete, and he at her, but was unable to articulate her fears, just mumbling, ‘Yes.’

‘Well, then, when he’s at your house, why don’t you come round here? You’d be very welcome.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really,’ Edith Pugh said. ‘Come again this evening. Alec is usually busy with his hobbies and it would be nice to have your company. There is so much I’d still like to teach you and it would be the ideal opportunity.’

Mavis was thrilled. She enjoyed being with Mrs Pugh, loved her house, and once again it felt as though she’d found a refuge. ‘I…I’d love that.’

‘Right, that’s settled then. Time to get on with some work, and, after you’ve done the bedrooms, you can help me to make the sandwiches for lunch.’

Smiling now, Mavis went upstairs to the already immaculate bedrooms. She took clean linen from the landing closet, and then stripped off Alec’s bed. They had clean linen every week, and to Mavis this was sheer luxury. How lucky Alec was. He lived in this house with its inside lavatory and bathroom, but most of all, he had a wonderful mother.

Edith was smiling. It was as though the gods were on her side. She had been in dread of Alec bringing a girl home, one who might be strong-minded and, if they married, would want a home of her own. Or one who, even if she agreed to live here, would want to take over and do things her own way. No, no, Edith didn’t want that. After all, she told herself, Alec was fastidious, used to her standards, and he’d be dreadfully unhappy if he married a slovenly girl.

Edith had long decided that, unbeknownst to Alec, she would find him a suitable wife, but had been on tenterhooks, worrying that in the meantime he would find someone that she didn’t approve of.

Edith smiled again. Her worries were over now. In Mavis, as hoped, she had found the ideal candidate. Mavis was lonely, shy, with no friends of her own age and that was just what Edith wanted. Not only that, Mavis was pretty presentable now, and as planned, from the look on Alec’s face today, he had at last noticed her. Yes, she was still only sixteen, but that suited Edith just fine. Mavis was still so innocent, so unspoiled and malleable, the perfect choice.

When Mavis and Alec married, there’d be no question of them finding a home of their own. No, they would continue to live here, and Edith would remain in control, ensuring that as her multiple sclerosis worsened she’d have someone to look after her, and her son would have a perfectly biddable wife.

Of course, Edith knew that she daren’t rush things. After all, she didn’t want to frighten Mavis off, but with the girl calling round more often, surely things would move along nicely.

‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ Lily snapped as her daughter walked in the door.

‘Mrs Pugh invited me to stay on for a birthday lunch. She even iced a cake for me with candles on it too.’

‘So you just decided to stay.’

‘Well…yes.’

‘How many times have I told you to come straight home after work? You should have been back by midday, but instead stroll in here at four. Didn’t it occur to you that I might be worried about you?’

‘I’m sorry, Mum. I didn’t think.’

‘If you had half a brain you’d have more sense.’

‘Lily, she’s home now,’ Pete placated.

‘I should give her a bloody good hiding.’

‘There’s no need for that. There’s no harm done and I’m sure Mavis won’t do it again.’ And as his
eyes flicked to Mavis he added gently, ‘Ain’t that right, love?’

Mavis didn’t answer him and Lily bristled with anger. She was fed up with the way her daughter behaved around Pete, maintaining a surly attitude towards the man who showed her nothing but kindness. She’d spoken to Mavis time and time again, told her it had to stop, but nothing worked. She had always been obedient, doing as she was told without argument, but when it came to Pete her daughter continually defied her and Lily had had enough. ‘Pete asked you a question! Answer it.’

Mavis hung her head, saying nothing, and Lily surged to her feet. She marched up to her daughter and, as Mavis looked up, Lily swung her hand to slap her full across the face. ‘Get out of my sight!’ she spat. ‘Go to your room and don’t come down until you’re ready to apologise.’

Holding her cheek, Mavis fled, running upstairs and out of sight as Pete said, ‘Lily, you shouldn’t have done that. It’ll only make things worse.’

‘She deserved it.’

‘She’s still pining for her dad, and probably thinks I’m trying to take his place. Maybe it would help if I didn’t come round so often.’

‘No, Pete, I’m not going to let Mavis drive you out. It’s up to me who comes to my house, not her.’

‘All right, but let me talk to her. It might help.’ ‘Go ahead, but she ain’t coming down here unless you get an apology.’

Mavis heard a soft knock on her door, and when it opened Pete stuck his head inside. She turned her back towards him, curling into a ball.

‘Mavis, can I come in?’

She didn’t answer him.

‘Mavis, listen. I know you miss your dad, but, honestly, I’m not trying to step into his shoes. I know I couldn’t do that, but I care about your mum, and you. I’m just trying to look after the pair of you, that’s all.’

Mavis still said nothing and heard his heavy sigh, but when he began to talk again, she just wanted to drown out the sound of his voice.

‘Come on, Mavis, this can’t go on. It’s making your mum unhappy and she’s got enough on her plate as it is. I told her I’d come round less often, but she doesn’t want that. She’s lonely, Mavis, and misses your dad too. For her sake, can’t we at least call a truce?’

When Pete’s hand came out to touch her shoulder, Mavis shrugged it off. ‘Le…leave me alone.’

Pete’s voice hardened. ‘All right, please yourself, but this is your mother’s house and, as she said, it’s up to her who comes into it. She wants
me here, so I won’t be staying away. It’s up to you, Mavis. You can make an effort to at least be civil to me, or you can carry on like this and be sent to your room every time I show my face.’

Or she could go round to Mrs Pugh’s, Mavis thought, but then realised that Pete was right. If she wasn’t nice to him, instead of being allowed to go out, she’d be made to stay up here.

‘Well, Mavis, what’s it to be? Can I tell your mother you’ve apologised?’

With no other choice, Mavis nodded her head. ‘Yes.’

‘Good girl, now come on, come downstairs.’

When they walked into the kitchen, Pete said, ‘It’s all right, Lily. Me and Mavis had a little talk and everything’s all right now.’

‘It better be, my girl,’ Lily warned.

‘I…I’m sorry, Mum,’ Mavis said, forcing a contrite expression.

‘I should think so too.’

‘I tell you what,’ Pete suggested. ‘After all this upset, I think we could do with a little treat. It’s still Mavis’s birthday, so how about I pop out to get fish and chips for our dinner?’

‘You don’t have to do that. I can cook something.’

‘No, I insist. What do you fancy, Lily, a bit of cod or maybe haddock?’

‘All right then. Cod please, and a pickled onion.’

‘What about you, Mavis?’ Pete asked.

She forced a smile. ‘The same, please.’

‘Right, cod and chips all round. I won’t be long,’ he said, throwing his overcoat on before hurrying outside.

‘Right, Mavis. Now that Pete’s gone you can tell me what he said to bring about this sudden change.’

‘He…he said that he isn’t trying to take dad’s place.’

‘That’s right, he ain’t. He’s just being a good friend and I ain’t having you being rude to him again. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, Mum,’ Mavis said, hating that she had to do this. If she was nice to Pete, it would feel like she was being disloyal to her dad, but once again she knew there was no other choice.

‘Good, now get the plates out and lay the table for when Pete comes back.’

This was something her mother would never have allowed a year ago, but thanks to Mrs Pugh Mavis was confident now when it came to handling china. She’d been told to do things slowly, to make sure that everything was gripped firmly and it had made such a difference. Of course, unlike Mrs Pugh, her mother didn’t have fine porcelain, but she still carried the thick white plates carefully to the table.

It wasn’t long before Pete returned, smiling as he put the newspaper-wrapped packages on the table.
‘There you go, fish and chips for my two lovely girls.’

‘Girl…me? No, I don’t think so, Pete.’

‘Leave it out, Lily. You’re still a spring chicken.’

Mavis was fighting to hide her feelings. She wasn’t his girl, would never be his girl, and hated the silly little smile on her mother’s face when she looked at Pete. Somehow she sat at the table to eat the food that tasted like sawdust in her mouth, and when Pete asked her if she was enjoying it she managed to say, ‘Yes, it’s lovely, thanks.’

‘Shame we didn’t think about a cake, Lily.’

‘She did all right with your cardigan and I let her keep a few bob out of her wages.’

‘Mum, when I’ve finished my dinner, can I go out again?’

‘Out! Where?’

‘To see Mrs Pugh.’

‘What on earth for?’

‘She…she invited me, said there’s more she’d like to teach me.’

‘Oh, yeah, like what?’

‘I dunno, but can I go, Mum?’

‘I don’t suppose it would do any harm, but I want you home by ten and not a minute later.’

‘Yeah,’ Pete agreed, ‘we don’t want you out on the streets any later than that.’

Mavis pushed her plate to one side. ‘Can I go now, Mum?’

‘You ain’t finished your dinner.’

‘I can’t eat any more. It was a large portion and I’m full up.’

‘All right, but don’t be late, or else.’

She grabbed her coat, called goodbye, and dashed out, thinking about Pete’s last words:
we
don’t want her on the streets—not
your mother
doesn’t want you on the streets. To Mavis it proved that, no matter what he said, he
was
trying to step into her father’s shoes.

Tommy Wilson turned the corner and saw Mavis Jackson walking towards him, but with her head down she hadn’t yet seen him. It had been over a year since they had both left school and in that time Tommy had seen the transformation. In fact, Mavis now looked flipping gorgeous. She had turned from a gangly schoolgirl into a right looker, but since that last encounter when he’d smashed up her painting he’d kept out of her way. She might be a bit dumb but he’d never forgotten the look on her face, the anguish, and he was still racked with guilt. Yes, he’d been angry that she’d blabbed, but he wasn’t a silly kid now and knew that he and Larry had deserved the rollicking they got.

Mavis looked up, saw him, paled and stopped in her tracks.

‘It’s all right, Mavis, I ain’t gonna hurt you.’

Her eyes flicked to the other side of the road
and Tommy guessed she was going to bolt, so said quickly, ‘I’ve kept out of your way, you must have seen that, but, well, it’s about time I said I’m sorry.’

‘S…sorry?’

‘Yes, for smashing up your painting. I know it was a long time ago, but I shouldn’t have done it.’

‘It…it was a portrait of my gran, but…but she’s dead now.’

‘I know, I heard, and I’m sorry. Have you done another one?’

‘No, I don’t paint any more.’

‘That’s a shame. I know I took the mick out of it, but it was good.’

‘Th…thanks.’

Now that he was this close, Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off Mavis and wanted to prolong the encounter. ‘I’m an apprentice signwriter and, as it needs a bit of an artistic eye, we have something in common. Well, maybe not the writing, but the artistic bit.’

Mavis moved to step around him, saying curtly, ‘I’ve got to go, but thanks for the apology.’

Tommy could have kicked himself. Signwriting, what an idiot! It must have sounded like he was having a dig, but he hadn’t meant it like that. It was odd really, Mavis didn’t sound daft, or look daft, but he hadn’t really noticed that before. She’d just been Dumbo, and that was all he’d seen, a girl to make fun of; but somehow he suspected there
was more to Mavis Jackson than met the eye. Not that he was interested in her, of course. Mavis might be a bit tasty, but his mates would take the piss out of him if he took out a girl who was known to be loopy. Not only that, his mother would have a fit. At the moment he had his eyes on a girl who worked on the make-up counter in Woolworths. Next week he was determined to ask her out.

Mavis was thinking about Tommy too. She hadn’t had to worry about Larry Barnet for some time now, not since he and his family had moved away, and she had to admit that it was true—Tommy had kept out of her way. Until now. She had still been scared when she saw him, but it had been unfounded. It was nice of Tommy to apologise, but then he had spoiled it with that dig about signwriting.

She picked up her pace, looking forward to going to Ellington Avenue. Mrs Pugh was the only one who didn’t treat her like an idiot, and when she was with her Mavis felt her confidence growing—but then, as always, her mother, and now Tommy Wilson, shot it down again. Oh, if only she could show them. Show them that she wasn’t daft—but on that thought, Mavis saddened. She couldn’t read or write, so she must be.

When she arrived at Mrs Pugh’s, it was Alec
who opened the door, his smile warm. ‘Mavis, come on in. My mother said you might call in to see her again.’

She took off her coat, hung it in the hall closet, and then followed Alec into the sitting room. ‘Hello, Mrs Pugh.’

‘Mavis, how lovely to see you. I was hoping you’d accept my invitation. Sit down, my dear. As my son is busy with his stamp collection I can hardly get a word out of him, so you’re a welcome sight. Alec, if I can drag you away from your albums for five minutes, why don’t you make us all a drink?’

‘I’ll do it,’ Mavis offered.

‘No, sit down, Mavis. While Alec is making the drinks, there’s something I want to talk to you about. I had intended to wait until I had gathered all the facts I can, but I think you need something to cheer you up.’

Mavis sat on the sofa, and echoed Mrs Pugh’s words, ‘Cheer me up?’

‘As I’ve mentioned before, I can always tell when you’re unhappy, and as you accepted my invitation to come here, it must be because that man is still in your home. Am I right?’

‘Yes, he’s still there.’

‘I thought so, but listen, Mavis. I’ve been looking into the problems that a minority of school children have with reading and writing. It’s amazing what you can find in the library, and I think I’ve
discovered something. For instance, in 1896, a Dr Pringle Morgan wrote a paper about congenital word blindness.’

‘Word blindness. What’s that?’

‘It’s a medical condition. I think it may be the root of your problem and why you can’t read and write.’

Excited, Mavis asked, ‘If…if it’s medical, can it be cured?’

‘Not that I know of, but I’m sure further research is being done. I did find reference to an American man, Samuel Orton, who wrote a text in 1937 about what he called a specific reading disability. He advocates certain teaching methods, so you see, my dear, perhaps with a lot of patience and hard work, I’ll be able to teach you to read.’

Mavis gasped, unable to believe her ears. ‘Me! Read!’

‘Yes, but as I said, it may take some time. You’ll probably have to spend at least two evenings a week with me, as well as a few extra hours each weekend.’

‘I don’t mind, in fact, I’d love it. Oh, Mrs Pugh, this is like a dream come true! I’ve always been called stupid, or slow. If I can learn to read it’ll show that I’m not. I…I don’t know how to thank you.’

‘There’s no need, Mavis. I’ll enjoy the challenge.’

‘What challenge?’ Alec said as he walked in carrying a tray.

‘Your mother’s going to teach me to read,’ Mavis blurted out, so happy that she wanted to share this wonderful news with the world.

‘I’m going to try,’ Edith corrected.

Alec frowned. ‘But I thought…’

‘Yes, I know what you thought, but I’ve always suspected that Mavis is bright, more so since she’s been working for me. I’ve been looking into the subject and, though it will take some time, hopefully we’ll get there.’

‘This is all very commendable, Mother, but are you sure you’re up to it? You need to rest and I don’t want you wearing yourself out.’

‘Alec, I’m not braindead, and don’t want to be. It’s my body that’s letting me down. I need a challenge, something other than this illness to focus on.’

‘Very well,’ Alec said as he at last put the tray down. ‘If this is what you want to do, that’s fine. Anyway, when you get an idea into your head, there’s no arguing with you.’

‘Mavis, there’s just one thing,’ Edith then said. ‘I’d rather that the three of us kept this to ourselves for the time being. I wouldn’t want to raise your mother’s hopes, only to dash them down again if these methods don’t work.’