The Soldier's Bride (17 page)

Despite it being April the fire was well banked up, the tar hissing and bubbling within the flames. Coal at near on a shilling a hundredweight wasn’t cheap, but Dad was inclined to feel the cold a lot these days. He didn’t seem to comprehend that money was tight, the shop only just ticking over. She had dreamed such wonderful dreams of expansion, of opening up in the West End, but it wasn’t easy to make headway, a woman on her own. Those dreams gone, it was just ticking over as it always had, with Dad putting in his spoke at every turn to stop her doing what she thought best. Of course it was still his shop. He had the last say. Pity though he didn’t put as much energy in doing something about it as he did in putting obstacles in the way. Letty still felt that, given a free hand, she’d have got somewhere with it.

‘What we need is a telephone,’ she said casually.

Even David’s father, as old fashioned as David said he was in his business, had installed one in both his shops in
March. David had told her it had proved a boon; goods ordered by telephone, the order on paper following more conventionally, so that as soon as it arrived the goods were waiting ready to be despatched. Everywhere the telephone was proving itself the best invention in years.

His parents were so pleased that they now had one in their own home. Letty’s thoughts ran wild on a speculation that if Dad could only be persuaded to have one, she could use it to contact David at home. She’d be able to talk to him whenever she wanted, every day of the week. No more long days away from each other. It made her head spin to think about it.

‘What d’you think, Dad?’ she prompted, as he with his feet inches from the extravagant blaze, said nothing. Letty ignored the thought that one of these days those soles were going to catch light, waited for his reply.

‘Well?’ she urged.

His feet came off the fender so sharply she actually did think they had begun to smoulder. He leaned forward, reached for his pipe. ‘What the ’ell for?’

‘A lot of shops have a telephone now.’

She waited as he went through the lengthy ritual of lighting his pipe. ‘I’ve managed fer nearly thirty years without one,’ he rumbled at last.

‘I know, but things are changing.’ Her needle fairly flew in and out of the sock heel, jerky rapid movements. ‘Look how much quicker we can order things.’

‘What do
we
’ave to order? Everythink we ’ave is what comes in by ’and. Don’t need a telephone fer that.’

He was right there. They didn’t really need a telephone.
Letty bent her head over her darning, frowning, trying to find one reason Dad might accept. Beyond the drawn curtains, April lashed what sounded like its whole reserves of rain at the windowpanes. In the grate the coals slipped with a small crunching noise. In Letty’s mind a single thought dominated – how close she and David could be by the simple expedient of just picking up a telephone earpiece and asking for a number; David’s thoughts in her ear as though he stood beside her, their very thoughts exchanged through the wires.

‘What about illness?’ The idea came without any prompting. ‘Say if you were taken ill, look how quick we could get in touch with Lucy or Vinny.’

‘You expecting me ter be taken ill then?’ The way he said it, he made it sound as if she was putting the wish to the thought.

For a moment Letty couldn’t answer, with an effort quenched a spark of anger. Outside the wind buffeted the window. She eyed the small puffs of smoke billowing back down the chimney and into the room from the downdraught. The chimney needs cleaning, came the abstract thought in the midst of her cogent reply to Dad’s unkind and totally uncalled for remark.

‘Who’d have thought you’d go and break your leg last summer?’ she countered manfully. ‘If we’d had a telephone, Mrs Hall wouldn’t have had to go running all round the place looking for one to call Vinny on.’

‘Lavinia,’ he corrected sharply, and this time Letty’s anger rose unchecked.

‘Fer God sake, Dad, I don’t care! I’m trying to hold a
conversation with you. It don’t matter if I call her Lavinia or Vinny. Just stop treating me as if I was a kid!’

But Dad had effectively cut her argument short, which was what he had meant to do. And now his faded blue eyes swivelled towards her, a natural gesture much the same as she used, but where with her it was attractively provocative, from him it only appeared crafty and mean.

‘We wouldn’t ’ave needed any telephone,’ he said slowly, ‘if you’d have been ’ere, would we?’

So it was still there, under the surface, still simmering. Letty’s voice trembled beneath a wave of guilt she’d thought had healed along with Dad’s leg.

‘I’d still have had to go running around …’

The words died away. What was the point? Whatever she said was not going to subdue the sense that Dad’s accident had somehow been her fault. Like an invisible chain, it still bound her to him; so invisible, there was no way to sever it without wounding herself.

Fastening off the darning wool, she twisted the repaired pair of socks into a ball and automatically picked up another, examining the threadbare heels with her finger.

Nothing could have surprised Letty more than David drawing up, somewhat jerkily, outside the shop one Saturday afternoon in June in a splendid new Morris Oxford motor car. Dumbfounded, the dead litter of last Sunday’s market going unnoticed underfoot, she stood staring at the black paintwork glittering in the late sunshine while David grinned up at her from the driving seat, impish as a schoolboy.

‘My father has made me a partner in his business. This is to mark the event. £180 straight from the showroom. What d’you think of it?’

Touched by her wide-eyed amazement, the maturity of his thirty-four years sloughed from him like dead skin as he watched her green eyes dart and flicker, heard her exclamations, disjointed by excitement.

‘Oh David, it’s wonderful! You never said … about being made a partner. Or this. Oh my, it’s wonderful. And a motorcar!’ Goggle-eyed, she took in the vehicle, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Fancy now!’

‘We could go for a spin,’ he cut through her incoherence. ‘I could drive you over to Lavinia and Albert’s and show it off to them.’

She looked at him, her expression dulling. ‘Oh, but it’s late.’

Vinny and Albert had moved out to Walthamstow, to a larger house, double-fronted, bay-windowed, with a garden; almost as good as Lucy’s.

With three growing boys, little Arthur nearly two years old, they had certainly needed more room. But Walthamstow! Trust Vinny to go all posh. At least, with both sisters doing nicely thank you, Letty felt she could now hold her head up when she visited David’s parents – not that she did very often if she could help it, their continuing so disapproving and distant towards her, no matter how properly she behaved.

Vinny’s new home, large though it was, still gave as much an impression of lacking space as her old house had done, alive and noisy with three boisterous boys. So different to Lucy’s with its air of never being truly lived in. Her two girls never romped, cried, got into mischief. If Elisabeth so much as spoke a quarrelsome word, Lucy would promptly get herself a headache. Nor did Letty reckon there’d be any likelihood of the family ever becoming larger.

Having abstained so long from allowing Jack anywhere near her, Lucy now seemed incapable of producing another child, girl or boy. Almost as though she’d put a curse on herself. Fret over it though she might, Letty couldn’t imagine her with any more children in her immaculate home. She’d probably have a breakdown if she had to put up with what Vinny put up with, and her expecting again in November.

Letty much preferred the chaotic upheaval of Vinny’s
home despite Albert’s increasingly unbearable pomposity. She had never particularly liked Albert whose sleek youthfulness was fast fulfilling its promise of rotundness as he grew older. It would be fun to see his expression when David displayed this beautiful motor car to him.

Vinny’s home was near to Epping Forest too. Letty’s thoughts were already running on Epping Forest as she passed a hand appreciatively over the smooth bodywork. From now on they could drive there – drive anywhere – spend hours together without ever worrying about train and bus and tram timetables.

But so late in the afternoon, would they get to Vinny’s and back before dark? Dad wouldn’t be too pleased being left on his own at such short notice.

‘We’d be ever so late getting home again,’ she aired the thought, and David gave an explosive laugh.

Buying this had made him feel as light-headed as though he’d had a drink, could conquer the world. He flung one arm across its leather seat back, enticing her to get in beside him.

‘It’ll take only half an hour in this,’ he said brightly as, unable to resist, Letty tentatively opened the door and slid into the seat. The devil inside David was brandishing its three-pronged fork and he laughed wickedly. ‘Let’s see Albert’s expression when we show him.’

‘It’ll be dark before we get back.’ Letty’s face was sober now. Dare she say it? To rush off without any warning and leave Dad all that time. He’d go all ill-done-by. She’d feel guilty. For days afterwards life would be miserable. She hated those kind of days.

David was cheerfully unsuspecting. ‘It’s midsummer, darling. It won’t get really dark for hours. It’s only just seven o’clock now.’

‘There’s Dad’s supper.’ Letty knew instantly it had been the wrong thing to say, seeing David’s face cloud briefly. But he brightened the very next second. Nothing was going to spoil his triumph.

‘We could take him along if you like?’ But a lack of enthusiasm had entered his exuberant tone. This evening he wanted Letty to himself. ‘Obviously, if he doesn’t want to, I’ll make certain we’re back before it’s too dark. Half an hour to get there. An hour or so with them. Half an hour back. But if you’d prefer …’

Letty shot him a look. It was enough to tell her exactly what he was thinking. His joy in the new automobile was fast being dampened at the thought of asking her father along, knowing he’d refuse, knowing she’d be thrown into misery by his refusal. Her chin would go up, of course, determined not to let him spoil her few hours out of his sight but, as always, she’d be pulled apart, a mouse between two predators.

Letty could see David was doing his best to put on a brave face, and her chin did indeed go up. She came to an instant decision.

‘It don’t matter, David. He’ll be fine on his own.’ She was already out of the seat. ‘Wait there. It’ll only take me a tick to get me ’at on.’

Determination always gave her speech a hard aggressive cockney edge and David smiled, loving her for it, loving her resolve.

She found Dad in the kitchen, Braces dangling around his hips, his shirt collarless, he was trimming his moustache in front of the mirror over the sink. Scissors poised, he turned to see the twin spots of high colour in her cheeks, the glow in her eyes giving them an even greener hue that meant only one thing, but she voiced it for him.

‘David’s downstairs.’

She sounded breathless. The way she looked, as though on the point of taking off on new wings, told him her mind was already made up to go out with her precious David Baron.

Albert Bancroft’s mind savoured its own bitterness. A wonder she even bothered coming up to tell him. His earlier good humour doused in a single swoop, tonight he’d be on his own, knowing all her attention would be given up to David Baron, and sod how he felt – up here all alone.

‘And guess what he’s done, Dad? He’s gone and bought a motor car. A proper motor car. Come and take a look. Oh, it’s smashing!’

Arthur Bancroft grunted, turned back to snipping the stiff greying hairs on his upper lip. The small oval water-stained mirror reflected his faded blue eyes, baleful, full of possessive jealousy.

‘I s’pose yer goin’ out in it with ’im?’

‘He’s going to take me over to see Vinny and …’

‘Lavinia!’ he interrupted savagely without a pause in his snipping.

‘Lavinia,’ she echoed meekly. It wasn’t the time to get
on any high horse. ‘David asked if you’d like to come with us. Be nice for you to see Vin … Lavinia. Make a change. Make the weekend nice for you.’

But all her coaxing fell on deaf ears. Nothing was going to suit Dad. He made a point of it now.

‘I’ve said it before an’ I’ll say it again, no one’s goin’ ter get me in one of them there stinkin’ rattlin’ things!’

From the corner of his eye he saw her stiffen, her chin go up. He shrugged and continued to trim his moustache. ‘Don’t s’pose it matters ter you if I go or not. You’re still goin’, ain’t yer? Out till all hours.’

‘I’m never out till all hours.’ Her tone was affronted. ‘I’m always back before you go to bed. At least if you go to bed normal times. Well, are you coming or not?’

But she already knew his answer.

He stopped trimming to shake his head briefly. ‘Can’t see meself stuck in the back of that contraption, actin’ the gooseberry. You don’t want me with yer, anyway, you an’ ’im, if truth’s known.’

‘Well …’ Her words trail off, her lips tight. ‘He only asked.’

Head up, she turned on her heel, went resolutely into her bedroom, the one that had once been her sisters’.

She returned moments later wearing a cream-coloured tam o’shanter that went well with her navy blue dress. David had bought it for her for her birthday. Very fashionable, the narrow hem of the three-tiered skirt high enough off the floor to show her slim ankles.

She’d been over the moon about her present, hardly even looked at the brooch he himself had bought her. He
took second place to her bloody fine David in everything these days.

Arthur felt a force inside him endeavouring to make him ignore her, but she looked so attractive, her figure slim and shapely, her cheeks glowing, that a wave of affection constricted his chest.

‘I’m going then, Dad.’ Her obdurate tone cut through his momentary softness.

He grunted, kept his eyes on the mirror, conscious of her moving off, her footsteps an angry clatter on the stairs.

‘And don’t yer let ’im get up to no good with yer in that fancy machine of ’is!’ he yelled after her departing footsteps, hearing the shop doorbell jangle fiercely and the door crash to.