Lost Angel (21 page)

‘We could always pretend she’s older.’

Yes, that could work, Hilda thought, though not around here. In a new area it might be possible.

‘All right, we’ll try that.’

‘So we’re taking the jobs?’

‘Yes, we’ll take them, but now I’ve got to go and speak to Mabel.’

‘That boy shouldn’t get off scot-free. He should at least be made to support Ellen and the baby.’

‘With what, Doug? Billy only works in a stable
and he’s already got a wife with a child on the way.’

‘Then Mabel and Jack should stump up something.’

Hilda agreed, but money was the last thing on her mind at the moment. Head down with misery, she went upstairs to Mabel’s flat. It had happened again. London had brought her bad luck and unhappiness: the only glimmer of light was that they’d be getting out of it again. This time, no matter what, she was never, ever, coming back.

‘What? Oh, no, Hilda, no!’

‘The little shit!’ Jack shouted. ‘That’s it, I’ve had enough. He’s no son of mine now. I’m finished with him.’

‘Ellen…Ellen’s having Billy’s baby. I…I just can’t seem to take it in.’

‘I know, Mabel. I feel the same.’

‘What are we gonna do?’ Mabel wailed.

‘What can we do?’ Hilda said tiredly, her emotions so shot that she could still hardly think clearly. ‘Billy’s a married man now, with a child on the way.’

‘But, Hilda, don’t you see what this means? When Ellen has her baby, they’ll be half sisters or brothers.’

Hilda’s jaw dropped. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. It’s getting worse and worse.’

‘And they’ll only be a couple of months apart in age too,’ Mabel wailed.

Percy found his teeth grinding. Billy…Billy had taken Ellen down and he was almost overwhelmed with fury. He knew he wasn’t a fighter; since seeing men returning home from the front, crippled and maimed, he’d abhorred war and any violence, yet at this moment, if Billy had been standing in front of him, he’d have throttled the bastard. That word set off another train of thought. Billy couldn’t marry Ellen and that’s what her child would be – through no fault of its own, it would be born a bastard.

Ellen must be going out of her mind. She was only sixteen, but soon to be an unmarried mother. Percy knew what her life would be like living around here, the subject of disdain and gossip. When it was older, the poor kid would go through hell too; the biddies around here were narrowminded and cruel.

‘If only Billy hadn’t got Sheila pregnant,’ his mother cried. ‘If only he hadn’t married her, but it’s done now and…and he can’t marry Ellen too.’

‘Yes, and thanks to him it’s my Ellen who’ll now have to carry the stigma of being an unmarried mother, struggling to bring her child up alone.’

‘The little shit will have to support her,’ Jack snapped.

‘How?’ Mabel wailed. ‘With what? You know he earns sod all.’

‘Then it’ll have to be up to us. Ellen’s child will be our grandson or granddaughter too, or haven’t you thought about that?’

‘Oh, Hilda,’ Mabel cried, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Ellen’s having our grandchild, and a shared grandchild with you would have made me the happiest woman in the world, but…but not like this.’

Percy hated to see his mother in this state, but hearing her words an idea struck him, one that he pondered on for a while. There would have to be one stipulation, or they could forget it. Yet would Ellen agree? It was the perfect solution, but would she see it that way? He wasn’t stupid, knew that Ellen had never been interested in him, but despite this, and the fact that she was having his brother’s baby, Percy knew his feelings for her remained the same and always would. Taking a deep breath, he said, ‘Mum, I’ll marry Ellen.’

‘What?’

‘I said, I’ll marry her.’

‘But…but Percy, she’s having Billy’s child.’

‘Nobody needs to know the baby’s his, and my only condition is that he never finds out. I’ll bring the baby up as my own, and I don’t want Billy to have anything to do with it.’

All three of them stared at him, but it was his father who finally spoke.

‘Are you out of your mind? Why should you
mop up Billy’s mistakes? You’re only young and have your whole life ahead of you.’

Percy fought for an answer, and the only one he could come up with quickly shot into his mind. ‘I begged him, Dad. I begged Billy not to try it on with Ellen and he promised he wouldn’t. I know what he’s like, shouldn’t have trusted him, and…and now I feel responsible for what happened.’

‘You can’t blame yourself for what your brother did. You ain’t his keeper, and you ain’t getting lumbered with a wife and kid because of him.’

‘What about my daughter? If you ask me, she’s the one who’s been lumbered, but don’t worry, Jack,’ Hilda said sarcastically, ‘there’s no need for Percy to marry Ellen. We’ll be all right. My friend Gertie has offered us a way out, a job and home in Surrey. We’ll move there, and pretend that Ellen is older and widowed, as Doug suggested.’

‘What? Gertie’s got her plant nursery?’

‘Yes, she called round to tell us about it. That…that’s when Ellen told us that she was pregnant. The jobs are a godsend and it means we can get away from here before the tongues start wagging.’

Percy had hoped that Gertie would offer him a job too and now said desperately, ‘That’s great, but the offer still stands. I’d be happy to marry her, honest I would.’

‘No, Percy,’ said Jack. ‘Your mum and I will do
what we can to give Ellen financial support, but that’s as far as it goes.’

‘This is my decision, Dad, not yours.’

‘You ain’t a man yet and I’m telling you you’re off your head.’

‘I’m older than Billy and he’s married,’ Percy snapped, then softened his voice as he turned to Hilda. ‘At least let me put it to Ellen.’

‘I don’t know, Percy. Your father is against it and to be honest I’m not sure how I feel. So much has happened in such a short time and I need to clear my head. Leave it for now and we’ll talk again later.’

‘Yes, and by then me and Mabel will have talked some sense into our son.’

‘You won’t talk me out of it, Dad,’ Percy said, yet knew Hilda was right. The air was taut with tension and feelings were running high. Surely when his parents, as well as Hilda and Doug, had time to think about it, they’d see the sense of his offer. At least he hoped so.

‘Well, what did they say?’ Doug asked.

‘Like us, they’re shocked, but they did offer some financial support.’

‘I should think so too.’

‘Has Ellen showed her face again?’

‘No, she’s still in her room.’

Hilda sat down, emotionally exhausted, but her
mind refused to stop working. Percy’s offer had left her reeling and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but now, as it finally sunk in, she decided that it could be the perfect solution. They’d all move to Surrey, a respectable family, with their married daughter and son-in-law having their first child. Percy would be able to work at the plant nursery too, supporting Ellen, and instead of having to live a life of pretence and lies, they’d be able to hold their heads high. ‘Doug, something else came up.’

‘Oh yeah…what?’

‘Percy has offered to marry Ellen.’

‘You’re kidding. Why would he do that?’

‘Apparently he asked Billy not to try anything on with Ellen, and he agreed. Now, because he trusted his brother and left Ellen alone with him, he feels responsible for what happened.’

‘He can’t take the blame for what Billy did.’

‘That’s what Jack told him, but Percy still wants to marry her. I’ve always known that he had his eye on Ellen, but she’s never shown him an ounce of interest. I think that’s the real truth of the matter.’

‘Leave it out. He may like Ellen, more than like her, but he’d be taking on soiled goods and another man’s child at that. I can’t see Jack and Mabel allowing it.’

‘It should be his decision, not theirs. All Percy
asks is that Billy is never told that he’s the baby’s father.’

‘Hilda, it takes two to make a baby, and Ellen didn’t say that Billy raped her. Whether we like it or not, the child is his.’

‘I doubt the soppy cow even knew what was happening until it was too late, but you can bet your life Billy did. After all, he’d already got another girl pregnant, so he was hardly a virgin.’

‘Forget it, Mum. I’m not marrying Percy.’

Hilda swung around, only aware then that her daughter was standing in the doorway. ‘Oh, so you’d rather be a burden on me and your dad for the rest of your life, would you? Well, forget it, my girl, you’ll marry Percy and that’s that.’

‘Hilda, stop it. You can’t force Ellen to marry him if she doesn’t want to.’

‘Who else is going to take her on? As you so bluntly put it, she’s soiled goods now, and not only that, she’s having a child, one that will be born a bastard unless she marries Percy.’

‘I don’t want to be a burden to you. I…I’ll find a way to support myself.’

‘With a baby to look after, how do you think you’ll be able to do that?’

‘I’ll talk to Gertie; ask if, when the baby’s born, I can bring it to work. That way I’ll still be bringing in a wage.’

‘You think you’ve got it all worked out, but how
can you work in a nursery, outdoors in all weathers, with a baby alongside you?’

‘I don’t know, but I’m not going to marry Percy.’

Hilda glared at her daughter, yet she couldn’t now fail to see the change in her. The innocence had gone from Ellen’s eyes and she seemed older somehow, assertive. Hilda was at the end of her tether and couldn’t take any more. She rose to her feet, saying as she left the room, ‘Doug, I give up. You talk some sense into her. I’m freezing and I’m going for a lie down.’

In bed, Hilda clutched the blankets around her. All the dreams she had cherished for her daughter were dead now. There’d be no lovely white wedding, no perfect husband for Ellen, one who would take her away from poverty. There was just this now, Ellen’s only choice Percy, or the prospect of being an unmarried mother.

Groaning, Hilda buried her head in the pillow. She and Doug had talked about grandchildren and she had looked forward to that, but not this way…no, not this way. Yet, even as this thought crossed her mind, Hilda found herself thinking about the baby. Would it be a boy or a girl? Whatever happened she knew she’d love it, that Doug would love it too, but if Ellen wouldn’t marry Percy they were going to have to spend years struggling to support their daughter. Years and years of the same grinding poverty stretched ahead, of hard
work with little to show for it, but at least, Hilda decided, a little cheered by the thought, there’d be a baby, a grandchild to love.

‘Dad, I’m sorry, and I know Mum’s upset, but I can’t marry Percy.’

‘She’s just trying to do the best thing for you. You’d have a husband and the baby would have a father.’

‘It’s got a father.’

‘Yes, but one who can’t support you. All Percy asks is that Billy is never told that he’s the baby’s father.’

‘Yes, I heard, but I don’t see why.’

‘In the circumstances I can guess. If the truth got out he’d look a fool.’

‘He’ll be the baby’s uncle, not its father, and, well, it seems a bit sick that he wants to marry me and pretend differently.’

‘You shouldn’t think like that. Percy must like you a lot to offer to do this, and I reckon if you make the effort, the pair of you could be happy.’

‘How? I…I’d have to sleep with him, and I can’t, Dad, I can’t face it. When…when it happened with Billy it was all right at first, but then I…I didn’t like it.’

‘Oh, blimey, I don’t feel right talking to you about this. Go and tell your mother how you feel. She’ll explain things to you.’

‘She never has before and she’s in no mood to do it now.’

‘Look, this is a bit difficult for me, but I can tell you that for a woman it hurts the first time. After that, well, it’s all right.’

‘Really?’

‘I’ve never had any complaints,’ he said, then reddened. ‘I never thought I’d be talking about such things with my own daughter and, if you don’t mind, anything else you need to know will have to come from your mother. Now, let’s get back to Percy and if you really don’t want to marry him, I’ll support your decision. All I ask is that you think about it, weigh it all up, you know, the pros and the cons. Then, if you still feel the same, we’ll face your mother together.’

‘Dad, thank you. I know I’ve let you down, that I’ve let Mum down, but…but I didn’t mean to, honest I didn’t. It…it just sort of happened.’

‘I know, pumpkin, I know. Your mum’s in shock, but she’ll come round, you’ll see.’

‘I don’t think so. She called me a tart, and…and she hates me now.’

‘Don’t be daft. She just said that in the heat of the moment, that’s all. Your mum loves you, we both do, and no matter what, you’re still our little girl.’

‘I wish I was. I wish I could wind the clock back and be a little girl again.’

‘We all wish that at times – that we could go back and change things – but we can’t, pet. We’ve just got to make the best of it and live with the mistakes we’ve made.’

‘I’m going back to my room, Dad. Like you said, I’ve got a lot to think about and it’s freezing in here.’

‘Let me know what decision you come to.’

Ellen too wrapped herself in blankets, going over and over all that had been said. Despite all her parents’ arguments, she still didn’t think she could face marrying Percy. Yes, he was nice, but she felt nothing for him, well, other than friendship. Yet look where feelings had got her.
Oh Billy, Billy,
her mind cried.
I’m having your baby and you don’t even know.

Slowly, Ellen came to a decision, her mind at last made up. She would tell her parents first, but then she’d have to face Percy. It was only right that he heard it from her, but would he understand? She hoped so – hoped that he’d be content with friendship. Then somehow she had to move forward, putting Billy out of her mind once and for all.

It was chaos, everything moving so swiftly. With the cottage unfurnished, Hilda wasn’t happy that they had to take all their old stuff that was already ancient and second-hand when they had moved into this downstairs flat.

Still, Hilda thought as she sealed the last box, at least they were moving now. They’d be leaving London, a place that had brought her nothing but misery, and once again Hilda was adamant in her mind that she would never come back. Of course Mabel was still there, upstairs, the two of them remaining friends, despite everything and the rows that had raged. In fact, they were even more linked now with a shared grandchild on the way.

Gertie had been so kind, wonderful to Ellen, and Hilda wondered what time they’d arrive at the cottage. Gertie had wanted to drive down that morning to give them a lift, but Hilda had
felt that Gertie was doing enough and insisted that they’d be fine travelling by train.

‘The van’s almost packed. Are you ready?’ Doug asked as he poked his head into the room.

‘Yes, all set,’ she said. The room stripped of furniture looked empty, bleak, and just for a moment Hilda looked out of the window, thankful that it was the last time she’d look out onto a London street. Until the war she’d never been out of Battersea, but now she’d lived in Somerset, Clapham, Hampshire and now Surrey. Would it be their last move? Would they finally settle?

When they’d told Gertie that they wanted to accept her offer, she had taken them to see the plant nursery, the cottage and the nearest village, which had the funny name of Christmas Pie. They’d be in a lovely setting just outside Guildford and on a place called the Hogs Back. Unlike here, the views from the cottage window were wonderful; though close to the town, they would be set high up with an unobstructed vista of the beautiful countryside that stretched for miles.

‘I saw the van, are you off?’

‘Yes, Mabel, we’re going now.’

‘I’m gonna miss you so much.’

‘I’ll miss you too, but it’s an easy train journey to Guildford, as I’ve told you. You and Jack are welcome to visit us whenever you like.’

‘I know, but it isn’t the same as having you living
downstairs. If it’s all right with you, and if Percy doesn’t do his nut, me and Jack will come to see you all next weekend.’

‘Don’t worry about Percy. I’m sure he’s over it now.’

‘I don’t know about that.’

‘Stop worrying. I have, and you’ve got to do the same. Percy is still young and he’ll come round. You were only trying to do what you thought was right for him and now the dust has settled, he’ll understand that.’

‘Yeah, maybe.’

‘It’s time to go,’ Doug urged.

‘Right, see you next weekend, Mabel.’

‘It’ll be down to how Percy feels about it.’

‘Just come; after all, he can hardly stop you.’

‘All right, we’ll do that, and even if it causes another big row, as you said, we were only trying to do what was right for him.’

Hilda gave Mabel a hug; she was sure it would all work out. Yes, there had been rows, big ones, but it was over now. She wouldn’t cry. There was no need – Mabel and Jack she was sure would be frequent visitors.

With a last look around the room, Hilda picked up her handbag. Soon, though Guildford wasn’t miles away, London would be behind her, and then their luck was sure to change. There’d be no more heartache, just, she hoped, contentment.

Hilda smiled as she opened the door to Lavender Cottage, delighted to see a fire burning in the range. Gertie had been there to meet them at Guildford station, but she must have come to the cottage first. ‘Gertie, thank you.’

‘Until you find your way around, I’ve stocked you up with enough food for the weekend. There’s a kettle and things to make some tea, but I’m off because I’ve got a few things to sort out before I go to the station again. See you later.’

Doug closed the door behind Gertie, the warmth of the room enveloping them. Hopefully, Hilda thought, the removal van would arrive shortly, but in the meantime a cup of tea was just what they needed.

There was a tap on the door and, thinking that Gertie had come back for some reason, Hilda opened it to see a young woman holding a tray.

‘Er…Hello.’

‘Hello,’ she greeted in return. ‘My name’s Valerie, but call me Val. I live just down the lane in Mayflower Cottage. I saw you arriving and thought you might like this. It’s only tea and biscuits but it’ll tide you over until your things arrive.’

‘It’s very kind of you,’ Hilda said as she looked at the slender, pretty young woman, her long, golden hair hanging over her shoulders in rippling waves. ‘Would you like to come in?’

‘Just for a tick then,’ she said, stepping inside.

‘That’s Doug, my husband, and I’m Hilda.’

‘Hello, Doug. Now where can I put this tray?’

‘Here, lay it on the window seat,’ he suggested.

Val put it down, then looked around. ‘It looks so different now, fresh and lovely.’

‘It’s been re-decorated,’ Hilda said. ‘Did you know the last people who lived here?’

‘Yes, old Mr and Mrs Green. There’s something about this cottage, a warm feeling, and they both loved it. Sadly, when Mrs Green died, her husband soon followed. He was lost without her, and just sort of faded away. We kept an eye on him as much as we could but, though I know it might sound fanciful, I think he died of a broken heart.’

‘The poor man,’ Hilda said.

‘Yes, but he’s with his wife now and happy again.’

There was the rattle of cups, Doug saying as he poured tea from the pot, ‘It was good of you to bring us this and it’ll go down a treat.’

Val cocked her head to one side as she looked at him. ‘You’ve got a lot of pain in your back, haven’t you?’

‘Well, yes, but how do you know about my back?’

‘I sort of sensed it,’ she said off-handedly. ‘Anyway, I’d best be off. It’s nice to have a family living here again, and if you need anything else, just give me a knock. Bye for now.’

‘Well, love, the natives seem friendly,’ Doug said as Hilda closed the door behind Val.

‘She was a bit odd. I mean, how could she have sensed that you’ve got a bad back?’

‘She probably just saw that I was moving awkwardly, that’s all.’

‘What about that comment about Mr Green being happy now that he’s with his wife?’

‘Surely that’s what we all say when someone dies.’

‘I don’t, and what about her saying this cottage has got a nice feel about it?’

‘Now then, Hilda, you made the same comment when Gertie drove us down to see it. Val is just a nice young woman who was kind enough to bring us this tea and make us welcome.’

‘Yes, yes, I suppose so,’ Hilda said, yet despite agreeing, she still felt the young woman was odd. There was something about Val that reminded Hilda of the woman who had spoken of her vision. It was their eyes, she thought, as if they were able to see things that most other people couldn’t. Once again a shiver ran up her spine, but then Doug spoke again and the moment passed.

‘That sounds like the van,’ he said, crossing the room to open the door. ‘Yes,’ he called back over his shoulder, ‘it’s here.’

‘That was quick,’ Hilda said as she gave herself
a mental shake. There was enough to do without worrying about their new neighbour, and she now stood ready to direct where the furniture should be placed.

The removal men were quick and efficient and it wasn’t long before everything was unloaded. They even put the beds together, and Hilda felt awful that she hadn’t been able to give them a large tip.

Now, after all the activity, it was just the two of them again, but at least they had chairs to sit on and Hilda looked around the living room with satisfaction. Strangely, the old furniture looked all right in the cottage, fitting somehow.

‘Leave it,’ Doug said as Hilda began to open boxes. ‘You can’t manage all this unpacking on your own. They’ll be here soon to give us a hand.’

‘I can make a start.’

‘Do you know what, Hilda, this place reminds me of Hampshire. When we left there I vowed I’d return one day, but this’ll do me.’

‘Yes, it’ll do me too,’ Hilda agreed as she carefully lifted the porcelain angel out of the box to unwrap it. With a smile, she placed it on the tall mantelpiece above the range.

‘Considering that you don’t believe in God and all that, I’m surprised that you love that thing so much,’ Doug said.

‘Since that woman had that vision about you coming home, I don’t know what I believe in any more. There must be something, Doug, and a long time ago I had a funny feeling that someone was standing beside me. It scared the life out of me, but nowadays I like to think it was my mum,’ Hilda told him, and when she thought about her mother, her hand as usual went to the cross and chain she still wore around her neck.

‘I don’t believe in all that stuff, but your mum was a good sort, your dad too. I wonder what they’d have made of this cottage.’

‘They were Londoners born and bred and even during the Blitz there was no way they’d leave Battersea…’ Hilda paused. Yes, and the Blitz had killed her parents. Well, she was away from London now, starting a new life and leaving all her unhappiness behind. She gazed at the angel and there was something about the ornament that drew her. It hadn’t had this effect on her before, and it was silly, fanciful really, but it was almost as if the angel was watching over them.

Stop it, Hilda chided herself. It was daft to think that, and anyway, she had enough to do without standing there gazing at a statue. Yet she couldn’t help wondering. Are there angels? Do they really exist?