Coronation Wives (18 page)

The police station smelt of old fry-ups and well-stewed tea. Charlotte wrinkled her nose as she pulled the glove off her right hand and passed it into her left. A uniformed sergeant peered out at them through a square window, the sort normally seen in countryside railway stations where the employees spend more time tending the flowerbeds than dealing with trains. She almost felt like asking for a return fare to Paddington, but the sergeant didn’t look the sort to take a joke. The Alien Registration Cards were to be stamped for the two who had remained at the mine. Before handing them over she noted the details. Ivan was right. These two had only just arrived.

‘More Poles?’ The police sergeant eyed the cards and turned
a critical gaze over Charlotte, then Ivan who had followed her into the station. His tone was surly. ‘We’ll be overrun by ’em before very long, coming over ’ere, taking our jobs, taking our women.’

The last comment was obviously aimed at her. He looked her up and down as though she were one of those whose blood ran too hot to resist the overtures of Johnny Foreigner.

Charlotte snatched the cards from him and put her glove back on. ‘We need them to rebuild this country! Just as we needed them to fight the enemy during the war.’

The sergeant was having none of it. With a loud thump he stamped the documents as if he were crushing a series of flies.

Slam! A wooden shutter came down.

‘Well!’ Charlotte was not the sort to leave things like that. Fists clothed in white cotton gloves pummelled the closed shutter. ‘I shall be back, sergeant. And I shall report you! Indeed I shall, my good man!’

A hand fell on her arm. ‘Lady!’ Ivan was looking at her with a mix of confusion and surprise. ‘He is not a man. He is a uniform. Men change once they put on a uniform.’

Charlotte came to her senses and pressed her palm against her brow. Her skin was damp and hot. ‘This is unforgivable.’

‘He is not worth forgiving.’

Charlotte shook her head and took very deep breaths. Ivan had misunderstood. It was losing self-control that was unforgivable. ‘Wait outside for me, will you?’

He looked as if he was going to protest.

She assumed a more authoritative air. ‘Please! Wait outside for me.’

He did as she requested and left her alone there in the shabby waiting room where the sun tried to shine through dusty windows and brighten the brown walls and sludge-coloured linoleum.

Alone there in the gloom she almost wanted to cry. What was she going to do about Ivan? He had to have somewhere to live and he had to get a job.

Colin! He’d said he would help.

Just before leaving the building she studied the work details on Ivan’s Alien Registration Card. Perhaps there was something there that might show the way. She studied it carefully. This was by no means his first job. His last one, in fact, had been as a waiter and had ended in June. No reason was given. So what had possessed a waiter, however menial the job, to leave the comfortable surroundings of a hotel or restaurant and go to work in a mine? Surely he was worth something more? Her thoughts returned to her conversation with Colin and Edna on the day they’d gone to see the crown.

‘Are you good with your hands?’ she asked him once she was back behind the wheel of the car.

He looked at her coldly. She guessed he was still thinking about the man at the mine. ‘I was training to be an engineer back in Poland.’

‘But you don’t want to be a miner.’

‘I will do what I have to do.’

‘How do you feel about making children’s toys?’ she asked.

He didn’t answer straight away. She felt his eyes looking at her as she started the car and pulled away. ‘It’s for a friend of mine,’ she added in the hope that might sway his decision and get her out of a jam. Heaven knows what she’d do with him otherwise. No landlady would take a guest that didn’t have a job.

‘What is he like?’

‘He’s a war veteran.’

Ivan relaxed.

Charlotte explained things precisely so there’d be no question of him not understanding. ‘If he agrees to employ you,
then I’ll find you somewhere else to stay. Pensford is far too great a distance to travel.’

‘Why did you leave your last job?’ she asked.

‘I upset a customer,’ he replied.

She glanced at the clear-cut profile of the man sitting beside her. Ivan reminded her of someone else who’d once been far from home. Josef was rebuilding lives now back in Germany, similar to herself. It occurred to her suddenly that she did not risk any discomfort in what she did. Perhaps it was time that changed. The house in Clifton was large and there were two spare bedrooms in the attic. They had plenty of room. Surely David wouldn’t mind?

‘We’ll drive to Brent Cottage right now and return your friends’ documentation to Mrs Stanley. I’ll explain to her that you’re not staying because the mine does not want you. I think I may have a job for you. It’s in the city not the countryside.’ The rest of the idea she had in her mind gushed out unabated. ‘I think I can offer you a room. My house is certainly big enough.’

He looked surprised rather than relieved, but who could blame him? The poor man had been shuffled around from one place to another since arriving here, dealing with armies of officials and well-meaning people imposing their own personal brands of helpfulness.

‘Things will all be sorted out,’ she said brightly and truly believed it. Soon the hedgerows were left behind and suburban semis replaced roadside cottages, then rows of shops, through the city and up Park Street to Clifton and home.

Ivan crunched over the gravel behind her to the front door of the elegant Georgian house in Royal York Crescent. Judging by the gleam of the brass letterbox and knocker someone was home and had just finished polishing.

The drone of the vacuum cleaner greeted them as they entered the house. Charlotte smiled. Polly was here and her
favourite domestic appliance was out of the cupboard and scooting along the landing. Today was Edna’s visiting day. She’d be along later. Hopefully Colin would be with her. He did come sometimes if he could get time off from making rocking horses, scooters and wooden trains with bright red paintwork and whistles that really tooted.

Ivan stood quietly, his gaze travelling the dark cream walls, the curving sweep of the staircase. Charlotte almost felt as if she should apologize for living in such luxury compared to the lodgings he’d been used to.

She showed him into the drawing room. ‘Make yourself comfortable while I make tea.’

Edna and Colin arrived just as she was crossing the hall.

‘I’ve got something to ask you,’ she said to Colin, taking hold of his arm as if he might try to escape.

‘Oh yes?’ he said with mock wariness, tipping the wink to a grinning Edna. “What have you got planned for me now?’

Taking the opportunity of a lull in the vacuuming, Charlotte shouted for Polly to come down, then fetched the tea tray and followed Colin and Edna into the drawing room.

Charlotte introduced Ivan. At the same time she gave Colin a conspiratory look. ‘You remember when we went to see the Coronation crown?’

Face bright as a button, Colin walked stiffly across the room and held out his hand to Ivan. ‘She means do I remember her asking me to give one of you lot a job,’ he said with a wink. ‘We can but try, can’t we, mate? We can but try.’

Charlotte decided that the two men were best left alone together. ‘I’ll get more tea,’ she said. ‘And I expect Pamela would like a biscuit. I’ve got some iced ones in the kitchen.’

Edna followed her out, Pamela in her arms.

The cream kitchen was made more yellow by the bright sunshine of a late afternoon streaming through the sash
windows, the top halves of which were open. Smells of warm foliage and baking earth eased through. So did the lazy sound of bees buzzing and children playing in a garden three or four doors down.

Polly dragged herself away from her work and joined them. She put the kettle on, Charlotte got out more crockery and set it on a tray, then slid the biscuit barrel in Edna’s direction.

‘Sounds like a sensible arrangement,’ Polly said once Charlotte had explained things.

Edna sat subdued, her attention apparently fixed on Pamela who was making a mess with a soggy custard cream. Her thoughts were of Janet. Ivan was nice, and although his accent wasn’t that strong, it was there and Janet was bound to notice. She had to say something.

‘What about Janet?’ It sounded so feeble and she couldn’t stop her face from burning with sudden embarrassment.

Charlotte did not appear to notice her discomfort. ‘This house is much too big for just us. It really needs filling up. Janet, I am sure, will understand that.’

Edna persisted. ‘She might feel uncomfortable having a strange man in the house.’

As if to emphasize the potential threat, the strong sunlight disappeared, blanked out by gathering clouds. The kitchen darkened and a rumble of thunder sounded like the first murmurings of a hungry stomach.

Polly tutted in response to Edna’s comment. ‘Children should be seen and not heard.’

Edna prickled. ‘She’s not a child!’

Both Polly and Charlotte were taken aback. They eyed her as if they were seeing her in a new light, the strength and possible anger beneath the soft exterior. For one ghastly moment she was almost tempted to tell Charlotte why her good intentions might very well backfire. But she couldn’t. She’d made a promise she
would not tell. Janet would have to deal with it herself.

Charlotte was pouring dark sweet sherries into crystal glasses when Janet got home. Polly had gone, but Edna and Colin had stayed.

‘Darling,’ she said, decanter in one hand and Ivan’s glass in the other, ‘do come and meet our new houseguest. He’ll be staying in the attic for the time being until he can get a place of his own.’

‘Really?’ Completely unsuspecting, Janet stretched out her hand and smiled at the broad-shouldered young man with the fine features who looked smart on first inspection, though on second look his shirt cuffs were frayed and his suit smelt of mothballs. A young doctor in need of assistance, perhaps? His face certainly looked familiar.

‘Pleased to meet you. I’m going to presume you’re studying medicine. Am I right?’

To her great surprise he bowed slightly and clicked his heels together. ‘Miss Janet. No. I am not.’ He spoke very precisely, almost to the extent of being overly curt.

She had a strong urge to back away from him, but forced herself to stay. ‘Have we met somewhere before?’

His eyes were grey and striking, as if an artist had outlined them with a graphite pencil.

His smile was slow, almost secretive. ‘I do believe so, but you would not perhaps remember. My name is Ivan Bronowsky.’

Her smile chilled at the sound of his voice.

‘Ivan is from Poland,’ her mother explained.

‘Really?’ Janet felt the blood draining from her face. Her mother,
her own mother
, had brought a foreigner into the house. How could she? How could she?

‘I’m sure we’ll all get on famously,’ said Charlotte, a picture of self-assurance in a soft shade of jade with a rope of pearls at her throat.

Janet controlled the urge to take flight, lock herself behind her bedroom door and not come out until this man was gone. But he wouldn’t be going, she reminded herself, and she wasn’t at all sure how to deal with it.

The conversation was all about work. Colin held centre stage and Ivan said all the right things in the right places, but in the wrong accent.

When it was time for Edna and Colin to leave, Edna went out to the car ahead of everyone else and asked Janet to help her with the children. Colin dawdled by the door still talking to Ivan.

Once the children were inside the car, Edna drew her to one side. ‘I hate leaving you like this. Will you be all right?’

Janet stared at some point beyond Edna’s head and swallowed. ‘I can’t believe it. I’ve seen him before, and that voice … I’ve heard it before.’

Edna’s face was clouded with concern. ‘My God! You don’t really think it’s him, do you?’

Janet covered her face with her hands. They fell away when she shook her head and Edna saw that her eyes were screwed up with despair. ‘I don’t know! But all I do know is that I’ll be sharing a house with him and I don’t know how long I can stand it.’

After Edna had gone, Janet made an excuse about having another headache and went to her room. She waited until she heard their lodger climbing the creaking stairs that led to the attic. Once she was sure he was up there, she went downstairs to confront her mother.

Everything was in darkness but, just as she’d expected, a light shone from beneath the study door, which was slightly ajar. Her mother often worked late in there when the rest of the house was sleeping. She pushed it open without knocking. Tonight it appeared that Charlotte had already gone to bed, but
forgotten to switch the light off. The room was empty, the green china shade of the brass-stemmed desk lamp had been left on, its light focused on an open file lying on the desk.

Intending merely to turn the light off, her attention was attracted to a name she thought she recognized. Someone called Josef was enquiring of the whereabouts of Edna Burbage. Wasn’t that Edna Smith’s name before she married?

A sound from the hall made her turn round. Her mother did not look too surprised, merely distracted.

‘I came down for some water,’ said Janet. ‘I noticed you left the light on.’

Charlotte smiled. ‘Thank you, dear. I’ve got work to do in here, but I thought I’d clear the washing up rather than face the wrath of Mrs Grey in the morning. But while you’re here, I have to say I would wish you to be a little more friendly to Ivan. You were positively cold tonight. Do you think you could manage that?’

Janet considered her mother was being insensitive, at least towards her. Couldn’t she see how difficult this was for her? But she couldn’t say so, not without betraying the reason why he made her feel uncomfortable. Instead she asked, ‘Is he staying?’

‘Of course he is.’

Janet leapt on the only chance she had. ‘Daddy might not like it.’

‘Well!’ That was all Charlotte said, hurling the word into the air like a full stop dropped onto the end of a sentence. It was final.