Lost Angel (5 page)

‘Oh, Mum, it’s smashing,’ Ellen said, her eyes on the cake that Mrs Brandon had decorated so beautifully with pink and white icing.

‘Blow out the candles and make a wish,’ Gertie urged.

‘I…I wish my dad…’

‘Don’t say it out loud,’ Gertie warned. ‘If you do, it won’t come true.’

Ellen closed her eyes, this time making the wish silently, and then opening them she blew out all of the candles in one go. ‘There, it’ll come true now,’ she said, smiling happily.

Hilda fought to pull herself together. She could guess what her daughter had wished for and hoped it would be fulfilled – that Doug would get leave again soon, or, even better, that this rotten war would end and he would come home for good.

All Hilda’s worries and imaginings left her early in December when she got a letter from Doug. Christmas came, a spartan one, followed by a dismal New Year. There hadn’t been any more strange incidents, but sometimes Hilda found herself thinking about the feeling of someone being there, beside her in the scullery, yet she still couldn’t come up with an explanation.

One day in early January, Hilda decided to talk to Gertie about it, and said, ‘Gertie, do you believe in ghosts?’

‘Of course not. Why?’

‘You’ll think I’m mad, and anyway, it happened over two months ago.’

‘What happened?’

Hilda told her and, seeing the expression on Gertie’s face, she wished she’d continued to keep her mouth shut. ‘All right, I know it sounds potty.’

‘Our mind, senses and eyes can play all sorts of
tricks on us, and if you want my opinion, that’s all it was. I refuse to believe in any of the mumbo jumbo that people come up with: ectoplasm, speaking to the dead, or, even worse, fairies at the bottom of our gardens.’

‘What on earth is ectoplasm?’

‘A substance emerges from so-called mediums and is supposed to be spirit, but if you ask me it’s just a clever conjuring trick, an illusion.’

‘So you don’t believe in life after death?’

‘I’d like to think there is, but there lies the problem. Scientists have looked into these claims and so far nothing has been proved. Until it is, I’ll stick with the scientists who deal with fact, not fiction.’

When Gertie talked about ectoplasm and fairies in the garden, Hilda had to admit it sounded a bit silly, yet she still wasn’t convinced. What happened to her had felt so real, yet if investigated she couldn’t offer proof. Oh, she was tired. With windows shut and curtains drawn to keep out the cold, she found the room stuffy and yawned widely. ‘I think I’ll turn in.’

‘All right and goodnight, dear.’

Hilda lit a candle to guide her upstairs, nervous as the flames flickered, illuminating some areas while others remained creepily shadowed. It was this old place, having no electricity, along with being stuck in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps
Gertie was right and her mind had played tricks on her. In fact, if she stayed here for much longer, Hilda was beginning to think that it would slowly drive her mad.

Another couple of months passed and at last winter changed to spring again. Ellen loved this time of year when new green shoots emerged on plants and trees. It would be a time of planting again, working outdoors, something she loved.

It was still cold though, and any time spent on the smallholding meant wrapping up well, but digging was a great way to warm up. All three of them worked steadily and, at last, close to the end of March, Ellen’s wish came true. The cottage was too remote for visitors, so when there was a knock on the door they all looked at each other in surprise; Ellen was the one to answer it.

‘Dad! Oh, Dad!’

Moments later her mum was there. ‘Doug! I can’t believe it! It’s nearly two years since you were last here and I was beginning to despair of you ever getting leave again.’

Ellen moved aside as her father took her mother into his arms and their hug seemed to go on for ever.

‘Well, are you going to let me in?’ he finally asked.

Smiling with joy, Ellen walked in ahead of them, but Gertie looked less than pleased. ‘Doug. How long are you here for?’

‘Three weeks.’

‘Is that all?’ Hilda wailed.

‘I know, love, but considering the journey was a bloody nightmare, at least I’m here.’

‘Did you come on that motorbike again?’

‘No, pumpkin, I had to get a train this time.’

‘How did you get here from the station?’ asked Gertie.

‘I managed to get a lift for part of the way, but had to walk the rest.’

Ellen couldn’t take her eyes off her father. He looked so handsome in his navy blue uniform, sailor’s hat worn at a jaunty angle and blue eyes shining as he held his arms out to her mum. She ran into them again, the two of them locked in an embrace. ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he murmured.

‘I’ve missed you too, but look at me, in trousers, no make-up, and my hair in a turban.’

‘Darlin’, to me you’d look great in a sack, in fact, I can’t wait to get you into one.’

‘Doug! Ellen’s listening.’

‘Sorry, but how about a kiss?’

Ellen looked away as her parents’ lips met and her eyes fell on Gertie. She frowned, puzzled. Gertie looked furious, her face dark with anger.
Yet why? She was about to ask her what was wrong, but then found herself pulled forward, her father’s arms enclosing her as well.

‘Come here, pumpkin. My God, look at you. You’ve grown so much.’

‘Are you hungry, Doug?’

‘Hilda, you know me, I’m always hungry.’

‘Yes, like father like daughter,’ Hilda said happily. ‘Well then, I’d best get you something to eat.’

Gertie had seen Ellen looking at her, the puzzled look on her face, and somehow managed to compose herself. It hadn’t been easy. She hated seeing Hilda in Doug’s arms, kissing him, and anger, along with jealousy, made her stomach churn. Hilda looked ecstatic as she scurried to make Doug something to eat, and now his attention was focused on Ellen as he sat down, pulling her onto his lap.

‘How’s my girl, then?’ he asked, hugging her close.

Gertie couldn’t stand it any more. Doug’s arrival was an unwanted intrusion, spoiling everything, and her carefully built-up illusion was being shattered again. When he’d left last time she had picked up the pieces, comforted Hilda, pretending sympathy when she cried, but feeling nothing but joy as she held Hilda’s slender body in her arms.
Hilda seemed so fragile, so delicate, but of course that was an illusion too. Hilda was an enigma, appearing frail, yet sometimes as tough as old boots and was it any wonder that she loved this feisty, yet sometimes soft, woman?

Of course it hadn’t lasted, Hilda’s tears abating, and, with no excuse to wrap her arms around her, Gertie had to be content with just the occasional quick hug. Hilda had been with her for so long now and she’d been sure they were growing closer, dreamed of feeling Hilda’s lips on hers, but now Doug was here to come between them again.

‘What’s up, Gertie? You don’t look pleased to see me.’

Startled out of her thoughts, she said, ‘Er…of course I am, Doug. It’s nice for Hilda and Ellen, but such a shame you’re only here for three weeks. Anyway, lots to do so I’d best get on.’ On that note, Gertie hurried outside. Three weeks! Why couldn’t it be three days? Even better, three hours. There was only one crumb of comfort, Gertie decided as she tramped over the smallholding. When Doug left, Hilda would be distraught and would turn to her again for comfort.

It was only when they were in bed that night that Hilda and Doug could talk privately, but as they fell into each other’s arms after nearly two years
apart, all Doug’s worries were put to one side as he made love, first passionately, and then gently, to his wife.

The sheets and blankets were in a tangle, their bodies glistening with perspiration, but now, as Hilda lay with her head on his chest, his worries returned and Doug voiced his thoughts. ‘Hilda, what’s going on with Gertie? She didn’t look too pleased when I arrived.’

‘I didn’t notice. I was too busy looking at you.’

‘I know I asked this last time I was here, but has she, you know, tried it on?’

‘Of course she hasn’t. I’ve told you before, we’re like sisters.’

‘Then how come when I was hugging you she looked jealous?’

‘Don’t be daft. You’re imagining things,’ Hilda told him.

‘If you say so,’ Doug said doubtfully as his eyelids drooped with tiredness. It had been a long day, delay after delay on the trains before he’d finally arrived; his last thought before falling asleep that he’d keep an eye on Gertie while he was here. If his suspicions were right, he wanted his wife and daughter as far away from her as possible.

Hilda lifted her head to see that Doug was asleep, the soft glow of a full, luminous moon
shining on his face. She moved gently away to prop herself up on one elbow, gazing at him, heart bursting with love. Every day she had worried about his safety, fearing that his ship would join so many others that had been sunk with horrendous loss of lives. The thought of U-boats terrified her, visions of huge, dark prey, sneaking silently under the seas, torpedoes ready to strike unsuspecting vessels. She had nightmares, seeing Doug’s ship hit, of him fighting to get on deck while fire raged all around him. Hilda shuddered, recalling the many times she had awoken in the night, her nightmares so vivid she had thought them real.

She frowned, thinking about what he’d said about Gertie, and, though she had denied them at the time, his concerns echoed her own. Gertie
had
looked annoyed when Doug arrived, and she’d been funny with him all day.

Doug turned in his sleep and as his arm wrapped around her body, Hilda at last lay down. She didn’t want to worry about Gertie, didn’t want her short time with Doug ruined. She’d continue to deny her concerns and, anyway, Gertie hadn’t really tried anything – just an occasional hug that didn’t really make her feel threatened in any way. If Doug thought there was more to it, he’d go mad, so she would just have to alleviate his worries somehow.

Hilda snuggled closer, pushing thoughts of Gertie away. For now she could hold Doug – for now he was safe, but already she was dreading the thought of him going back to sea.

The dawn chorus woke Ellen, and finding herself in a different room for a moment she was disorientated. Her last memory was of falling asleep on her dad’s lap, that thought causing her to sit bolt upright in bed. Her dad! Her dad was here and must have carried her up to bed in Gertie’s room.

Excitedly, Ellen flung back the blankets, careless of the cold linoleum underfoot as she scampered to see him. ‘Dad!’ she cried, jumping onto the bed.

An eye opened, a groan, and then he said, ‘Blimey, pumpkin, you’re up early. Come on, you’re cold. Get in between me and your mum.’

Ellen scrambled into the bed, uncaring that she had woken her mum as her arms wrapped joyfully around her father.

‘Ellen, your feet are freezing,’ Hilda complained, ‘and you’re a bit big for getting into bed with us now.’

‘Leave her, Hilda. She’s all right with us for a while.’

‘Doug…you…you haven’t got anything on.’

‘Bugger, I forgot about that.’

‘Why haven’t you got your pyjamas on, Dad? Did you forget to bring them?’

‘Er…no,’ he said, ‘but shift over for a minute and I’ll put the bottoms on.’

As his arm reached out to grab them from a nearby chair, Ellen was aware that her mother was getting out of bed. She turned over, eyes wide when she saw that her mum was naked. ‘Mum, where’s your nightdress?’

‘Stop looking at me. I forgot to put it on, that’s all.’

‘Hilda, now that you’re up, how about a nice cup of tea for your old man?’

‘See what you’ve done, Ellen,’ she complained, shrugging her flannelette nightdress over her head.

‘Blimey, talk about a passion killer.’

‘Doug, watch what you’re saying in front of Ellen.’

‘What’s passion?’ Ellen asked. ‘See what I mean?’

‘It’s just another word for enthusiasm, that’s all.’

Ellen still didn’t understand, but after wriggling about under the bedclothes her dad managed to get his pyjama bottoms on and she snuggled up to him again.

‘You needn’t think you can stay there for long, my girl,’ her mother warned. ‘Now that you’ve got us up at the crack of dawn you can give me a hand with our breakfast.’

‘I’ll get up when you fetch Dad his tea.’

‘Oh, so now he’s to have it in bed, is he?’

‘Cor, yes, please, love.’

Though her mum was trying to look cross, Ellen could see that she was happy, her brown eyes bright as she left the room. It was lovely to see her smiling all the time and she said sadly, ‘Dad, I wish you didn’t have to go back to sea.’

‘So do I, but buck up. We’ve got three lovely weeks together before that happens.’

There was the sound of a miaow and moments later Socks jumped on the bed, lying down on her father’s chest. He stroked his head, saying, ‘He was only a kitten the last time I saw him. He’s a whopper now.’

‘Yes, but he isn’t around much. He turns up every morning for something to eat and it’s my job to feed him, but then he’s off again.’

‘He should have been neutered.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Er…it’s something that’s done to tomcats to stop them roaming. Now tell me, did you like the carving I sent for your last birthday?’

‘Yes, it’s lovely and looks a bit like Socks.’

‘That’s what I was hoping,’ he said, but then as Ellen saw her mother walking in with a cup of tea he added, ‘Well, Ellen, if it’s your job to feed this cat, I think you’d best do it.’

‘But…’

‘No arguments. Now scat,’ he said. ‘I’ll be up soon, but stay downstairs until I am.’

Ellen reluctantly climbed out of bed, Socks jumping down to follow her out of the room. She heard her mum giggle, followed by the sound of the bed creaking, and it was over half an hour later before they appeared again.

Usually Gertie was the first one up, but not today. She forced a cheerful smile, saying as she sat at the table, ‘Good morning, Doug. Did you sleep well?’

‘Eventually,’ Doug said, winking lewdly.

Gertie couldn’t hold back a scowl, but hoped to hide it as she picked up the teapot to pour a cup, then adding milk.

‘Gertie, that tea’s been made for ages. I’ll make a fresh one,’ Hilda said as she walked through from the outhouse.

‘No, this will do me. I’ve got a lot to do and running late.’

‘I’ll cook you an egg on toast.’

‘No, Hilda,’ snapped Doug. ‘Ellen’s waiting and we’re going for a walk. Gertie wasn’t up when you
were cooking breakfast and, anyway, I’m sure she’s perfectly capable of making her own.’

‘Yes, I am. Go on, Hilda, you can go for a walk.’

‘She doesn’t need your permission,’ Doug snapped.

‘Doug, what’s the matter with you?’ Hilda asked.

‘I just don’t think you need Gertie’s say so to go out. It’s not as if you work here or that Gertie’s your boss.’

‘Gertie took us in, you seem to be forgetting that.’

‘You pay your way
and
work on her smallholding. If you ask me she’s got a good deal.’

Hilda seemed to stretch, neck high and face flaming with temper. ‘Now you listen to me, Douglas Stone. I choose to do the cooking and, when necessary, outdoor work. Gertie works like a dog and, as her friend, I’m pleased to be able to help.’

‘Your friend, yes, but is that
all
she is?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Don’t act the innocent again. You know full well what I mean.’

‘My God, I can’t believe you’d even
think
such a thing.’

‘I saw what it was like when I was last here, with you waiting on Gertie hand and foot. She acts more like your husband than your so-called friend.’

‘Now you sound jealous.’

‘What do you expect! I’m in the navy and there isn’t much I haven’t seen, between both two men,
and
two women.’

‘Well, there’s nothing like that going on between Gertie and me,’ Hilda said forcefully.

Gertie said nothing as the row raged. She thought she’d hidden her feelings from both of them, but in Doug’s case she obviously hadn’t been successful. He thought she and Hilda were lovers but, oh, if only that were true. Still, she would have to be careful, to hide her feelings, or Doug might just persuade Hilda to leave.

Doug seemed to slump, his elbows on the table and his hands rubbing his face. ‘I’m sorry, love. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’

‘I should think so too, but it isn’t just me who deserves an apology.’

Doug looked up, swallowed, then said, ‘Sorry, Gertie.’

‘That’s all right. You’re obviously under a lot of strain, and maybe you just needed to release a bit of anger.’

‘It’s the things I’ve seen, ships going down, men drowning before we could pick them up, horrible, terrible things.’

‘Oh, Doug,’ Hilda cried, running to kneel by his side.

Gertie couldn’t watch and quietly she went out of the back door. It’s a shame it wasn’t Doug’s ship
that went down, she thought, then was immediately appalled with herself. How could she think like that? It was disgusting, dreadful – but nevertheless the thought wouldn’t go away.