Poor Little Rich Girl (40 page)

Hester fell into step beside her, thinking that the woman’s cheeks were hard and red as apples and with the thought came recollection. This was Mrs Tebbitt, whose husband owned the best greengrocery shop on Heyworth Street. When she had lived in the area, Hester had often popped in for apples, oranges or bananas to make Lonnie’s diet more interesting and remembered Mrs Tebbitt well, having frequently been served by her.

‘Well, Mrs Tebbitt, it’s nice to see you again and looking so healthy, too, despite the rain,’ Hester said, rather confusedly. ‘I’ll be glad of your company since
I don’t know a great many of the other mourners. I had no idea so many people would attend. Mr Bailey was indeed well loved!’

Mrs Tebbitt agreed heartily, adding that the whole family were well liked. ‘St Benedict’s were crammed, wi’ folks standin’ in the aisle,’ she said impressively. ‘Of course, there were a good few traders – me husband came to the service and me son George – but they can’t all come to the committal. It’s a good distance from Heyworth Street to the cemetery and would ha’ meant closin’ the shop for the rest o’ the day, just about. But as you can see, those that could be spared have come along to pay our last respects.’

They made their way, along with the rest of the mourners, towards the newly dug grave where Mr Bailey would be laid to rest, and both Hester and her companion fell silent as the vicar motioned to the pall bearers to get the coffin into position. Hester’s heart gave a painful little bound; Dick was at the head of the coffin, his brother Ted was opposite him and the four other men, though strangers to her, must be Dick’s brother-in-law and other relatives.

The vicar began the committal and the coffin was lowered slowly into place. As the men stepped back from the grave, Hester saw Mrs Bailey for the first time. The poor woman’s face was white and strained, though her eyes were swollen and red from weeping. Ben stood very close to her, his own face showing traces of the tears he had shed, and Mrs Bailey’s hand clutched Phyllis convulsively. Phyllis must have been crying too, but now she simply looked exhausted, staring into the grave as though she could not believe what was happening.

‘Man that is born of a woman hath but a short
time to live, and is full of misery…’ As the familiar words rang out, Hester felt her own eyes grow wet. Her mind went back to her father’s funeral, scarcely more than a year ago, and then to her mother’s, though that was more difficult to recollect, for she had only been a child at the time and her father had spared her as much as he could. But the memory of the deep sense of loss and bewilderment which had accompanied each tragic occasion almost overcame her and she had to concentrate very hard on what was happening now. Sad though it was, she reminded herself that it was not her tragedy and, biting her lip, she managed to stem the tears.

‘… earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…’ The vicar’s voice and the rattle of soil as it fell on the coffin brought Hester abruptly back to the present. She saw that Dick, as the eldest son, was stepping forward, scooping up a handful of soil from beneath the canvas cover and tossing it gently into the grave, his face working as he did so. Ted followed him, then Dick drew Mrs Bailey forward and Hester watched whilst the small woman unpinned a bunch of white violets from inside her coat and threw it down on to the coffin. The family had evidently provided both Ben and Phyllis with a few little white flowers, and they followed their mother’s example, Phyllis beginning to sob convulsively as she did so. ‘I want my daddy!’ the child wailed. ‘I don’t like it here. I want to go back to the sanatorium.’

The sextant and his helpers came forward to fill in the grave and the mourners began to move slowly away. Hester hesitated for a moment, then turned to follow them.

Dick went and put his arm round his mother as the
men began to work on the mounds of earth. ‘You all right, Mam?’ he said gently; he gestured to Ted to take her arm and picked Phyllis up, lodging her comfortably on his hip. ‘Only the car’s waiting by the main gate and we want to get home so’s we can put the kettle on and get the food laid out before everyone else arrives.’

Mrs Bailey gave him a watery smile. ‘I’ll be fine now,’ she said. ‘As for puttin’ the kettle on an’ gettin’ out the sandwiches and cakes, Mrs Burridge couldn’t come to the funeral ’cos her Peggy’s in bed wi’ an attack of the croup. But she said she’d pop up an’ do the necessary so’s everything would be ready when we got back.’

‘That’s grand …’ Dick was beginning, when a movement caught his eye. He saw a slim girl in a navy raincoat, her gleaming dark head bare, turning away from him. Dick gasped. ‘Mam, there’s Hester!’ He stood Phyllis down. ‘Ted, take Mam and Phyllis to the main gate for me, would you? I shan’t be a mo’, I must just …’

Afterwards, he assumed he must have flown over the intervening space between them for suddenly he was at Hester’s side, swinging her round to face him, saying agitatedly: ‘Hester! Where have you
been
, queen? We’d almost give you up. I searched and searched, but there were no sign of you. I even visited the Shaw Street house, but no one knew anything and now the old lady has sacked most of the original staff, so it was no manner of use calling there again. To tell you the truth, I thought you must have gone back to India, especially when we couldn’t find Lonnie either, only …’

‘Oh, Dick!’ Hester said tremulously. ‘I was so sorry to read of your sad loss in the paper. He was one
of the best, was Mr Bailey. But you aren’t the only one who’s been searching. I went round to your old house twice – the first time a young girl answered and virtually slammed the door in my face. The second time, it was a friendly young woman, but she was only able to tell me the family had moved to some little Welsh village, up on the Llandegla moors, or somewhere up in the Welsh hills, which wasn’t much help. Oh, Dick, I’ve missed you so badly – the whole family, I mean,’ she added hastily.

Dick groaned. ‘I left my Birkenhead address with them, but I suppose it were only their mam who realised it was important to pass it on,’ he said, taking both Hester’s hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze. ‘But look, we can’t talk here. You’ll come back to the house? The Evans family had already moved out before me dad died, so as soon as we’d settled everything in Bwlchgwyn we moved our stuff straight home. As for you missing us, that’s nothing to how we missed you! But Hester, how did you get here? And where are you living now? I don’t mean to lose touch with you again, so just you give me your address, queen.’

Hester laughed. ‘I came by tram and I’ll go back to work the same way,’ she told him. ‘I’m working on the Scotland Road in a dress shop called Paris Modes and I’m lodging a bit further along the Scottie, at Number 10, Stansfield Court, but now that I know you’re back in Elmore Street you may be sure I’ll visit you there.’

Dick could have kicked himself because he could not offer her a lift. The car would be crammed to capacity, with the children sitting on adult laps, unable to squeeze even one more soul aboard. He would have liked to say that he, too, would catch
the tram, but could not go against the convention that families stuck together at such times. ‘I wish you could come in the car with us, but I’m afraid it’s jam packed, what with Millie’s twins and our kids. But you will come back to the house, won’t you? Our mam’s laid on a really good cold meal back in Elmore Street. Do say you’ll come, Hester!’

Hester hesitated. ‘The trouble is, the woman I work for didn’t want to give me time off, even for the funeral. If I go back with you to the house she’ll be closed by the time I’m back on the Scottie …’ She glanced up at him, smiling with her eyes the way he remembered, then seemed to make up her mind. ‘Thank you, Dick, I’ll be glad to come back to the house,’ she said decisively. ‘After all, what can Miss Deakin do but sack me, and I don’t really think she’ll do that. I may not be the best shop assistant in the world, but she pays me very little and I seem to please the customers.’

Dick took her arm, thinking that the customer who was not pleased by this charming and attractive young woman would be hard to please indeed. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’ll walk you as far as the gates, but then I must join the family. Our mam will be that delighted to know we’ve found each other again … nearly as delighted as I am,’ he finished, highly daring, but Hester only smiled and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.

‘You can’t be more pleased than I am, though,’ she assured him. ‘I’ve done my best to be self-sufficient and independent, but it’s been hard. And I’ve not caught so much as a glimpse of Lonnie, so I just hope …’ She stopped speaking to look up at Dick. ‘Do you know, when I said that, something like an
electric shock ran up my arm! Don’t say you know where she is!’

‘I do,’ Dick said, not mincing words. ‘It’s rather a long story, but I’ll tell you just what happened when we get home. No, on second thoughts, I’ll settle Mam and the kids in the house, then come back and meet you off the tram. We can have a talk as we walk home. Oh, look, there’s a tram now. You won’t have to run; there’s a good few waiting at the stop.’

Hester sat on the tram in a daze of happiness. Despite all the difficulties which had beset them, Dick had not forgotten her, any more than she had forgotten him. Just to see that firm, humorous face, to feel the touch of his hand on hers, had been wonderful enough, but to see the tender look in his eyes as they met hers was best of all. Because of the months which had passed since their last meeting she had honestly begun to wonder whether she had imagined his interest and concern for her. She wondered no longer. It was writ large in his expression; very much, she suspected, as it was in hers.

The journey was both long and rather tedious for she was not so lucky in her trams as she had been on the way to the cemetery. She had a wait of almost fifteen minutes when changing at Everton Valley and the rain began to blow sideways so that her neat little umbrella, which had kept her nicely dry earlier, was pretty helpless against the gusts. Consequently, it was a damp and dripping Hester who descended from the tram in Heyworth Street, straight into Dick Bailey’s arms.

‘Hold up there, you don’t want to slip on these wet flagstones,’ he said cheerfully, a strong arm round her waist. ‘I had hard work to stop Ben from
accompanying me, incidentally. He’s longing to have a good old talk about what’s been happening to us. To tell you the truth, your turning up again has been downright miraculous. Mam’s scarce spoke above a whisper since our dad died, but when I told her you were coming on to the house for a bite of tea and a bit of a chat, she was that pleased … even little Phyllis smiled.’

‘It’s a dreadful time for everyone, but probably worse, in a way, for the kids,’ Hester said. ‘It’s so hard for children to understand that someone they love can leave them. I remember how dreadfully hurt and upset I was when my mother died … I was ten.’

‘I guessed you’d understand,’ Dick said and began to explain about the sanatorium, the rented cottage and everything that had happened to the family since he had seen Hester last.

Hester’s eyes filled with tears as she heard how happy Bob Bailey had been in the sanatorium and how sudden and shocking his death had seemed.

‘But the sister on the ward told us that Dad had known right from the beginning that he wouldn’t have long with us,’ Dick told her. ‘And the point is that he put himself out to enjoy every minute of the time he had left and he couldn’t have done that if Mam or the kids had known his days were to be so few. I always admired my dad and now I think he was almost a saint. Well, no, not a saint,’ he amended, ‘’cos saints aren’t much fun to live with, and me dad was great fun. He was a good man, good all through, and we shall all miss him horribly, but we’ve got a deal of happiness to look back on, and that’s really important.’

Hester carried his hand to her face and rubbed it
gently against her cheek. ‘I wish I’d known your dad better,’ she murmured. ‘He and your mam really loved one another and had a wonderful marriage, and though it ended sooner than it should have, nobody can take that away from them.’

‘That’s true,’ Dick said. He heaved a deep sigh, then smiled down at her. ‘Now I’ll tell you about finding Lonnie from the very beginning, when I took my sister Millie’s twins to the park so that she could give her mother-in-law a hand with some changes she was making, to the moment when Lonnie and meself came face to face.’

He told the story well, Hester thought, making it both interesting and amusing. He told her about feeding the ducks, the crocodile of school children … and at last came to the meeting, the tea eaten in the café, and Lonnie’s plan for escape.

‘So you see, we’re all well on the way to sorting things out,’ he said triumphantly as he finished his recital. ‘The only thing is, why hasn’t Lonnie’s pa turned up already to rescue her? It does seem odd, don’t you think? It’s May now and high time, if you ask me, that they were told what’s been going on.’

‘In a way, I’m glad I didn’t know,’ Hester said ruefully. ‘I’d have worried myself sick wondering how I could help. We’ll have to talk over our plan of action, though, Dick, because I mean to write to Lonnie’s father and tell him that he must make arrangements to get Lonnie out of that school just as soon as may be. I know that he’s a very important businessman and may not be able to come dashing over to England as soon as he would like. But there should be nothing to stop him getting someone he trusts to act as his agent over Lonnie and her education.’

‘If it were a kid of mine, I’d let me business go hang,’ Dick said frankly. ‘Why, if little Phyllis were in trouble I’d journey to – to India, yes and back again, to see her right.’

‘That sounds grand, I’ll grant you that, but remember, a great many people in India – and elsewhere for all I know – are totally dependent upon Mr Hetherington-Smith’s business to keep their own children fed and to pay their rent and so on,’ Hester pointed out. ‘So we mustn’t judge him, Dick.’