The Silent War (42 page)

‘I warned her!’ growled Louie. ‘How many times I warned her!’

Sunday pushed her out of the way, and rushed straight into the bedroom.

To her horror, she found her mum lying stretched out unconscious on her bed. The sheets were stained with blood.

A LABOUR LANDSLIDE CARETAKER GOVT. LEADERS FALL LIKE NINEPINS

The headline on the front page of the London evening newspaper, the
Star
, told it all. After a particularly acrimonious General Election campaign, on Thursday, 26 July, Winston Churchill and his caretaker Government were voted out of office. It was a result which clearly shocked the nation, including those who had voted for Clement Attlee’s Labour Party.

In ‘the Buildings’, the residents reacted in different ways to the shock news. Doll Mooney said, ‘I can’t believe it, I really can’t. Poor ol’ Winnie. If it ’adn’t been for ’im, we’d ’ave lost the war.’ Joe Mooney wasn’t quite so perturbed; he thought the result ‘quite funny’. The most upset, however, was good old Tory stalwart, Jack Popwell. ‘Disgustin’!’ he proclaimed. ‘It’s like stabbin’ yer best friend in the back!’ But there were plenty of other residents who were overjoyed at the result.

‘Now we can feel proud to be British!’ boasted Aunt Louie, who particularly welcomed the news after having to spend the past week or so looking after her sister.

Madge’s close brush with death had been averted only by the quick thinking of Jack Popwell, who had rushed downstairs to the public telephone in Camden Road and dialled 999. Luckily, the ambulance had come as soon as it was called, and within fifteen minutes, Madge was in the Emergency Wing of the Royal Northern
Hospital
, with a perforated varicose vein in her left leg. The whole incident had deeply upset Sunday, for the moment she had seen her mum’s bed saturated with blood, she had feared that she was dying. However, after an emergency operation, in which the offending vein had been removed, Madge was eventually allowed back home. But she needed several weeks of rest, which meant that she had to sit with her feet up, and take as many walks as possible.

Although Sunday was concerned about her mum’s condition, she was relieved to have her job at the Deaf and Dumb School to go to each day, for it gave her a break from the constant bickering between her mum and Aunt Louie. And as each day passed, that bickering was getting worse, invariably ending up in a blazing row over the most trivial incidents. It was at times like this that Sunday yearned to have a man around the place. The two elderly women she was saddled with were getting out of hand, and for Sunday the flat was turning into a kind of straitjacket. Luckily, Madge’s friend Mr Billings was a frequent visitor, and he often brought one or two of Madge’s Salvation Army friends along to see her during the afternoons, much to the disapproval of Aunt Louie. Things finally came to a head late one afternoon in early August. Sunday returned home from the Deaf and Dumb School to find her mum out, and Aunt Louie in the bedroom packing her clothes into a suitcase.

‘Aunt Louie?’ Sunday asked, as she entered the bedroom. ‘Is anything wrong? Where’s Mum?’

Louie looked up only long enough for Sunday to read her lips. ‘Gone out with her boyfriend,’ she said sourly, whilst continuing to pack.

Sunday approached closer. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘What does it look like?’ replied Louie, irritably. ‘I’m packing my bag. I’m leaving.’

Sunday suddenly felt a surge of excitement. Many a time her aunt had threatened to do what she was doing
now
, but there was just a hope that this time she meant it. ‘Why? What’s happened this time?’

When Louie looked up at Sunday again, she realised that her aunt’s face was white and drawn, and her eyes were puffed up from crying. ‘I’m not welcome here,’ she replied calmly. ‘I haven’t been welcome for a long time.’

Sunday sat on the edge of her mum’s bed, kicked off her shoes, and watched her aunt whilst she continued packing. ‘You mustn’t take too much notice of Mum,’ she said, unsure why she was being so nice to her aunt. ‘She’s not properly well yet.’

‘She’s not been well for a very long time,’ sneered Louie. ‘And I’m not talking about her varicose veins.’ She went to the chest of drawers, took out some of her underclothes, and put them into the suitcase. ‘This time she’s gone too far.’

‘What do you mean?’

For a moment Louie stopped what she was doing and looked straight at Sunday. ‘She resents my being here. After all these years, she can’t bear me being here any more.’

Sunday was astonished to read what her aunt was saying. ‘It’s not true,’ she said. ‘You know how fond Mum is of you.’

‘Used to be,’ said Louie, with her lips quivering as she talked. ‘That was years ago, when she needed me. If I’d known then what I know today, I’d never have set foot inside this place. What your mother said to me today, I’ll never forgive.’

Sunday was absolutely intrigued, and as she looked at her aunt’s heavily lined face, now crumpled up in obvious pain and anguish, she actually felt sorry for her. ‘What
did
she say then?’

‘She said she only ever let me come here out of pity. She said I was a sponger, that I’ve always been a sponger, that I outlived my welcome long ago.’

Embarrassed, Sunday lowered her head.

Louie stretched her hand towards Sunday and raised her chin. ‘Oh I know that’s what you think too. But it’s not true. None of it’s true. I’ve always paid my way. All the years I worked for the Civil Service, I paid over half the rent, and I did the same even after I retired. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.’

Sunday wanted to say something, but Louie seemed determined to get things off her chest.

‘I never came here for me,’ she said, staring Sunday straight in the eye. ‘I came here because after your father died, Madge couldn’t cope on her own. I’m talking about your adopted father, not the real one.’

This made Sunday sit up with a start. ‘Did you
know
my real father?’ she asked eagerly.

Louie shook her head. ‘But I knew your mother. Your real mother.’

Sunday felt her flesh turn cold. ‘You
knew
her?’

Aware that she had gone too far, Louie didn’t reply, and carried on packing her suitcase.

But Sunday had no intention of leaving it there. She quickly got up from the bed, stood directly in front of her aunt, and made her look at her. ‘Mum has always told me that I was found in a bundle on the Salvation Army Hall’s doorstep. She said they never discovered who my real mum was. What are you trying to tell me, Auntie?’ she said, grabbing hold of Louie’s arms and gently shaking them. ‘Tell me!’

Louie looked up slowly. The pupils of her eyes were misted over. She shook her head. ‘Madge is the one to ask, not me,’ she replied.

Frustrated, Sunday released her grip on Louie’s arms, turned away, and stared out of the window.

Louie went to her, stood at her side in silence for a moment, then gently turned her round to face her. ‘Sunday,’ she said, her lips moving more slowly and precisely than Sunday had ever seen before. ‘There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Things that you’ve taken for granted, without ever knowing the truth.’

Sunday turned her face away, but, with one hand, Louie gently turned it back towards her again.

‘You think I don’t know anything about love,’ she said, her eyes flickering as she talked. ‘You think I’m just another old man-hating spinster who prefers the company of women friends.’ She slowly shook her head. ‘You’re wrong. I
do
know how to love. I’ve always needed love.’ Her eyes flicked down and then up again to Sunday. ‘All my life I’ve been in love with Reg Collins.’

Sunday’s face froze. Had she understood correctly? Aunt Louie in love with her adopted dad? What was she talking about? Reg Collins had been dead ever since she was a baby.

‘Yes,’ continued Louie, nodding her head. ‘I fell in love with him before your mum even met him. But she took him away from me. He was the only man in the world I ever wanted, and she took him away from me.’

Outside, the sun was trying to put in an appearance after a rather disappointing start to the day, and for a few seconds the two women’s faces were illuminated by a bright glow. Louie’s light grey eyes sparkled in the light, and although to some people her short, cropped hair made her look like a man, at that moment Sunday could imagine that, as a young girl, her aunt must have been quite beautiful.

‘You see, when your dad died, I never stopped loving him. I still love him, even after all these years.’ She swallowed hard, and licked her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘After he died, and your mother asked me to move in, I said no. I just couldn’t bear the thought of being in the same place where he’d been living with someone I know he didn’t really love.’

Sunday felt uneasy at this remark, and tried to turn away.

‘It’s true, Sunday,’ Louie said, taking the girl’s hand and holding on to it. ‘I know it’s hard for you to understand, but it was me that your dad loved, not your mother. He knew he’d made a mistake going with her, but
she
had this hold on him.’ She clenched her fist and stared hard at it. ‘She had him right there, where she wanted him. Don’t ask me how, but she did it.’ She looked back up at Sunday again. ‘It was soon after she was told she couldn’t have babies of her own that you came along.’

Sunday tried to pull away. But again, Louie held on to her.

‘I should never have come here, Sunday, I know that now. But after he died, I wanted to be near him, and coming here was somehow the next best thing.’

Sunday was bewildered, and stared hard at Louie. ‘Auntie,’ she said, ‘are you saying that all the things you told me about Dad are untrue? About being jealous of Mum, about beating her up and everything? Why did you have to lie? Why?’

Louie covered her face and dissolved into tears. For Sunday, this was the most remarkable sight she had ever seen. Throughout her entire lifetime, her aunt had been a tower of defiance and mischief. She had never once shown a moment’s weakness, never once revealed any sign of vulnerability, or care or interest for anyone but herself. The woman standing before her now was like a perfect stranger. Suddenly, Sunday felt immense pity, so she took hold of Louie’s hands, and as she gently prised them away from the old lady’s face, tears came streaming down the lines on either side of Louie’s nose.

Then Sunday did something that she had never done before. She put her arms around her aunt’s waist, and hugged her. Louie immediately responded, and as her entire body heaved up and down in pain and anguish, she leaned her head on one side on Sunday’s shoulders, and sobbed her heart out.

Madge Collins and Stan Billings made slow progress through Finsbury Park. Although Madge’s leg was now much improved, she was still relying on a walking stick, mainly as a precaution rather than because she actually needed it, and it was also a comfort to have Stan’s arm
to
cling on to. The weather had been a little unsettled during the morning, with just a light rain shower, so most of the benches were still quite damp. But by the time they reached the bandstand, the clouds had more or less cleared and some attendants were just setting out deckchairs for an amateur band concert that evening.

Sunday knew exactly where to find her mum, for this was the place where Madge invariably came for her afternoon walk, which was part of the recuperation ordered by her hospital surgeon after her own GP had mistakenly diagnosed phlebitis for varicose veins. Madge loved this area of the park, not only because the old bandstand was surrounded by tall oak, elm, and chestnut trees, but because it was well away from the lake. Madge was scared of the lake, scared of water, which is why she never learnt to swim, never went in a boat, and why, when Sunday was a child, she rarely brought her there.

As she hurried to catch up with her mum and Mr Billings, Sunday couldn’t help feeling how odd it was that whenever Madge went out anywhere, she always seemed to wear her Salvation Army bonnet and uniform, even when she wasn’t on duty. Sunday also found it hard to reconcile what her aunt had just told her about her mum with the frail old woman who was walking at a snail’s pace just ahead of her.

‘Mum!’

The moment they heard Sunday’s voice, Madge and Stan came to a halt and turned.

‘Sunday,’ Madge said, taken aback. ‘What a lovely surprise.’

‘’Allo, Sunday,’ said Stan, with a welcoming smile.

‘Aunt Louie’s gone,’ Sunday said straight away, without even acknowledging Stan’s greeting. ‘She’s packed her suitcase and gone to stay with her friends up at Swiss Cottage.’

Madge’s smile had faded. ‘I’m not surprised,’ she replied quite coolly. ‘Don’t worry. She’ll be back.’

Sunday was astonished by her mum’s reaction. ‘Don’t you care?’ she asked.

‘Why don’t I leave you two girls ter ’ave a talk on yer own,’ said Stan uneasily. ‘I’ll see if I can rustle up some tea in the cafeteria.’ Embarrassed, he backed away, and hurried off, leaving Sunday and her mum to face each other alone.

‘You shouldn’t have mentioned your auntie here,’ said Madge calmly but firmly. ‘Not in front of Mr Billings.’

‘Mum!’ snapped Sunday, eyes blazing. ‘How can you be so callous? What’s been going on between you and Auntie?’

‘Your aunt and I had a difference of opinion. She’s been getting restless for quite some time now. You know how difficult she can be.’

Sunday waited for her mum to sit down in a nearby deckchair, then sat in the one next to her. ‘I don’t understand all this. You’ve always been so fond of her, so protective. You’ve never allowed me to say one single thing against her.’

‘That’s a slight exaggeration, dear.’

‘It’s true!’ insisted Sunday. ‘D’you remember the time when you said, “Whenever you have a row with Auntie, it’s not her you hurt, it’s me”?’

‘Things are different now,’ said Madge bitterly. ‘Over these past months, your aunt has changed.’

‘Oh Mum, so have you.’

Madge’s eyes flicked up irritably. ‘You have no reason to say such a thing.’

‘It’s got something to do with Dad, hasn’t it?’