Lover (24 page)

‘What, and help that lot up there? Hitler'd love that, wouldn't he, us all gassing ourselves. He'd be tickled pink.'

She gave me a crooked little smile. ‘I know it's silly, Rene, but it's the worry of it, always on me, and I'm doing my best, but Joe doesn't see it, he doesn't seem to understand. If I could just have a bit more money…'

‘He never used to be like that, did he?'

‘No. He was always what you'd call careful—you know, putting it by for a rainy day. He used to grumble if I asked him for a bit extra, but not like this. Now he's saying I can't make it stretch because I'm buying things for myself. I said to him, you show me one thing I've bought for myself, because I've never done that, never. I can't remember the last time I had something new—I make it last till it wears out. Look.' She twisted her arm round to show me her elbow, where the cardigan had worn through and she'd darned on top of the darn. She went quiet then, and stared down at the lino. When I looked where she was looking, I saw there was a hole in that, too. Then she said, very quiet, ‘He even said…he said I ought to ask you for more money.'

That made me see red, because I give her a lot for Tommy, and there's always extra for new clothes and shoes, but I didn't want to take it out on Dora because it wasn't her fault. I said, ‘Oh, he thinks I don't give you enough, does he?'

‘No, not that, but he said…just…oh, it doesn't matter.'

‘Yes, it does. What did he say?'

‘Well, he said you're always buying Tommy presents. He says you must have money to burn.'

‘He's my son, Dora. Why shouldn't I buy him presents?'

‘No reason—it's just what he said, that's all. But it's like I said, Rene, if it wasn't for what you give me, I don't know how I'd keep the food on the table. I've even pawned my coat, don't know when I'll get it back.'

‘For crying out loud. What's he doing with the money, anyway?'

‘I'll show you.' She got up and went through to the bedroom, and I followed her.

I don't know what I'd expected, but she bent down and lifted up a corner of the counterpane. ‘Look.'

It was a funny old wooden box, like a miniature chest of drawers. ‘It's all in there.' She opened one of the drawers, and there were all these sixpences and shillings stacked up. ‘He's had this for years,' she said. ‘He used to keep his papers in it, and I never interfered, but a few years ago I was doing the spring cleaning and I went to move it, only I couldn't, because it was so heavy, so I looked inside, and there was all this. There's notes in there, too, stuck down the back.'

I said, ‘Can't you take a bit?'

Dora shook her head. ‘He knows exactly how much is in there, right down to the last farthing. He's turned into a miser, Rene. It's dreadful—he won't even come down the shelter no more. He says somebody'll steal the money while he's away. I've said to him, time and time again, how's anybody going to steal it if they don't know it's there, but he won't listen to me. He says what with all this looting you hear about—he's even accused me of telling people, and I've never told a living soul except you, Rene. I told him, if this place gets bombed, fat lot of use it'll be if you get blown to pieces, but he won't listen.'

Well, if it was me, I'd have taken what I needed and had it out with Joe later, but Dora's not like that—probably why she's married and I'm the way I am, now I think about it. I went and got my handbag and tipped out what I had left in my purse, five shillings, and gave her that.

‘There. You go straight round the pawn shop and get your coat back, and I'll be round with some more as soon as I can, but you've got to talk to him, Dora.'

‘I've tried, but it's hard. He's so tired, what with all this and then having to go to work. He's just exhausted, and he gets so irritated if I ask him anything about money. Bites my head off.'

‘I know, but it's the same for everyone.'

‘Yes… I'll do my best. Oh, Rene, you are a dear. I don't know what I'd do without you, I really don't.' I knew she wouldn't talk to Joe, though. She's too much for keeping the peace, and I can't say anything—that would be interfering, and besides, there's my little Tommy to think of. Walking back, I was thinking, well, I'll just have to give her a bit more, that's all. Which means earning it. Then I thought of Lily again, and that gave me the shivers, all right. Makes me fairly miserable to think about it, I can tell you, but I don't have a choice. Even if I got war work—if they'd have me—I wouldn't earn half as much, and I wouldn't be suited to it, either. But at least I can go out and earn the money, which is more than Dora can.

I'll just have to put the whole business out of my mind, that's all. I've got enough at home to cover the rent and then a bit over so that's me all right for the next few days, at least. Dora's coat isn't a patch on mine—it's not going to cost the whole five bob to get it back, so the rest of that, along with the other money I gave her, ought to see her through the week, even if Joe doesn't. I was surprised, though. He never seemed that sort, but like I always say, you can't tell.

I had a policeman waiting for me when I got back. ‘Are you Miss Rene Tate?'

I didn't recognise him—I know most of them round here, but this was quite a young lad. I said, ‘You'd better come in,' because I didn't want him hanging about outside the door, upsetting the neighbours.

So we went inside, and he said, ‘We'd like to talk to you about Mrs Franks.'

Well, that threw me. ‘I don't know any Mrs Franks. You must have come to the wrong place.'

He had a look at his notebook. ‘This would be Mrs Lillian Franks.'

‘Oh, Lily.'

‘You knew her as Lily?'

‘I knew her as Lily Gerrity.' Because she used Ted's surname, you see. ‘Everyone did. I don't know about any Franks.'

‘You're saying you don't know Mr Franks?'

‘I told you, I've never heard of him.'

He asked me a lot of questions about when I'd last seen her and where, and did I know Ted and had I seen him in the pub and had I seen him later and was she soliciting and was I soliciting. I was honest with him, but he didn't seem to believe anything I said and we went round and round in circles until I didn't know if I was mad, or he was. By the time he'd gone, I thought, that's it, I've had enough, and I lay down on my bed and the next thing I knew it was the middle of the afternoon, and time to pull myself together and get round to Harry's for tea.

I must say, he'd got it very nice, proper cloth on the table and everything. We had a look at the bird; I swear it's bigger already, and soon as he took the lid off the box it had its beak open, ready for grub. Harry said, ‘I've been out for worms, this morning.'

‘Ooh, don't show me. I can't bear them. Have you fed it?'

‘Oh, yes. Breakfast and dinner.'

‘You ought to give it a name. Is it a he or a she?'

‘I don't know. How do you tell?'

‘I don't suppose you can, unless it lays an egg.'

‘Well, what about Albert?'

‘Albert…that's good. I had an Uncle Albert. Talk the hind leg off a donkey, he could. Always had his mouth open.'

‘Albert it is, then. Shall I put the lid back, and we can have tea?'

‘Go on, then. Goodbye, Albert.' I gave him a little wave, and Harry said, ‘You like him, don't you? That's nice.'

‘Well, he's sweet. Now, don't go using all your ration, because I bought this,' and I took out a bit of tea I'd twisted up in paper and put in my bag.

‘I can't take that. I invited you, remember?'

‘But…you must let me give you something.' The words were out of my mouth before I realised what I'd said, and I thought, oh,
no
, now I've done it, because Harry was looking me up and down—not in a nasty way, but still I thought, oh, what's he thinking?

He said, ‘Tell you what. How about you give me a kiss, instead? Just there.' And he pointed to his cheek. So I got up on tiptoe and gave him a little peck, right where he said.

‘There. Now, this stops in here,' and he took my hand with the tea in it and pushed it back into my bag, ‘and I'll make the tea.'

When he came back, he'd got this nice little tray with the things on, but I burst straight out laughing, because he'd got a woman's apron on, with a little frill, tied round his waist, and it did look so funny. ‘Oh, look at you!'

He was terribly embarrassed, poor man. He'd obviously forgotten he was wearing it, because he banged the tray down very quick on the table, and then he couldn't get it off, he was all thumbs. Of course I was embarrassed, too, for laughing. ‘Here, let me help,' and I went round behind him so he couldn't see my face. I was fumbling away with the knot, but I got it in the end, and held it out to him. ‘I'm sorry. It wasn't fair of me.'

He said, ‘Oh, it doesn't matter. I should have remembered. It's just a habit I've got into, you know, if I'm doing a bit of cooking, or…'

Oh, I felt rotten. I could tell he was uncomfortable, because he didn't say anything after that, just busied about with the tea things, so I started talking to cover it up, saying how hard it was with the ration, being on your own, and how prices had gone up and…just a lot of nonsense, really. He wasn't answering back, just saying, ‘Hmm, hmm,' and I didn't know what to do. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about Dora and Joe, just for something to say, but I thought, that's family, you can't talk about that. So then I thought, well, I ought to tell him about the policeman, because that had gone right out of my head for some reason—the embarrassment, I suppose—but just as I was about to say it, Harry said, ‘It belonged to my wife.'

‘What's that?'

‘The apron. If you were wondering.'

‘I wasn't… I didn't know you were married.'

‘She died.'

‘Oh, I'm sorry.'

‘It's not, I mean… To be honest, it was all a bit of a mistake. We never really got on.'

Immediately when he said that, I thought, oh, dear, here we go. ‘That's a shame, but I suppose we can't all be lucky.'

Harry said, ‘I don't know if I can tell you. It doesn't seem fair, with all your trouble.'

‘Well, if you don't want to, but what I'm saying, if it's something you want to tell me, I don't mind.' And I put my hands in my lap and set myself to listen.

‘Well, how it was, we didn't really know each other, you see, not well, and it turned out we didn't have the same ideas. About marriage… intimacy.'

When I heard that, I thought, well, Rene, you asked for it, now you'll get it.

He cleared his throat and said, ‘I don't say it was her fault, because I was young, I didn't have the experience. I'd have liked some children, but she wasn't interested, even for that, and she made it pretty clear, so after a while I thought, there's no point banging your head against a brick wall, and I suppose I just gave up. I don't mean just with what you'd call the physical side, I mean someone to talk to, have a joke—she didn't have much of a sense of humour—and I was evidently all wrong for her, a disappointment, because she thought her family was a bit above mine, you know. So it wasn't in any way a life
together
, if you see what I mean. At one point I did think of leaving, getting a divorce, but then I thought, well, I married her, I've got to stick with it, and there was all her family, and mine. Well, she died from blood poisoning. 1936, it was. Just a scratch from a rosebush. My roses; I had a little patch down there in the yard. It was only a little cut, but it went bad, you see, and they couldn't do anything. I felt terrible about it, Rene, because they were my roses, and really, you could say I'd spent a happier time down there with them than up here with her, and I didn't love her, and I thought it must be my fault. Afterwards, well, I did want to start again, you know, somebody else, but I couldn't. I felt guilty about Doris—that was my wife—because of the roses, and because I didn't love her. When we were in the hospital, and they came and told me she was dead, and it was like a weight off my back. I hated myself for that. I thought, well, she didn't make you happy, but I hadn't made her happy, either, and perhaps I should have tried harder, or if I'd made more money… I don't know. But that's what I thought for a long time, and then I began to think, supposing I did get married again, it might be just the same, all wrong, and I'd rather be on my own than have that, so I couldn't do it.'

‘But it wasn't your fault, Harry. You stuck by her, didn't you?'

‘Yes, I did that. You know, Rene… I hope you don't mind if I say this, but how it was, she'd go to bed first, go into the bedroom and she'd shut the door while she was getting undressed and then she'd say, ‘You can come in now,' and I'd go in, and the room was dark and she'd be lying in her bed, and I'd get undressed and get into my bed, quite separate, with the strip of carpet between, and I'd say to her, ‘Sleep well, goodnight,' but she never answered, never said ‘goodnight'. I'd lie there, thinking, tomorrow it'll be another day, just the same, and the day after, on and on, keeping up the appearance of this marriage, and that's my life…'

All the time he was talking, he'd been fiddling with his cup and saucer, not looking at me, but then when he did, oh, it went straight to my heart. I felt so sorry for him, and before I knew it, I was crying, because it was so sad, everything was sad, and I didn't know whether I was crying for him or Lily or Dora or the whole bloody world.

‘Rene! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm so sorry.'

‘No, Harry, it's not…you didn't. I'm just being silly.'