Memories of You (27 page)

Danny caught his breath when he saw Helen illumined by the hall light behind her. How beautiful she looked, how stylish – and how like their mother. He watched as the man opened the door of the passenger seat and saw Helen in just like a gentleman should do.

He didn't know where they were going, but the night before, when the man had brought her home, Danny had heard him say as he turned to walk away, ‘I'll see you in the morning, nice and early.'

The car drove away and Danny felt hollow inside as he watched it go. He knew it wasn't fair to blame Helen. It had been his and Joe's decision not to contact her, but he couldn't help wondering whether she missed them as much as they missed her. That was why he was here, standing alone and miserable in the frosty dawn. He just wanted to catch sight of her on Christmas Day.

And then he raised a smile. At least I have Joe, he thought. My twin brother, the other half of me, the person I would do anything for. I'd die for him if necessary. Danny began to cough. The early morning air, full of soot as Londoners lit their fires, was not good for his chest. He wrapped his muffler firmly round his lower face and set off on the journey back to Myra's. He and Joe would make the best of it.

Fleetingly he wondered what sort of Christmas Elsie would have. Adopted by such rich people, her life would be very different from everything that had gone before. Living in luxury as she must, he wondered if she ever remembered the Christmases she had spent with her family. And if she did, would she long for those days to return or would she have changed too much by now? Whatever the answer was, he hoped that their little sister would be happy.

On Christmas morning Hugh and Elise went to church alone. Selma told them she was tired after the dinner party they had given the night before. She would have breakfast in bed and would come down when they returned. Then they could open the presents that were waiting under the tree.

To Hugh Elise seemed no different from usual. She greeted him with a smile and joined in the pretence that Father Christmas must have called. Hugh knew Selma would not have imagined the changes in their daughter's behaviour and he accepted that girls reacted differently to their fathers, especially fathers as doting as he was. This caused him no worries.

What had kept him awake at night and what was eating into his soul was the suspicion that Selma was ill. His wife had never been the sort of woman to ‘soldier on'. She wasn't exactly a hypochondriac but she believed in being safe rather than sorry, and as everybody knew the best consultants in the world were in Harley Street, she took full advantage of them both for herself and Elise.

If she has felt at all unwell she will have been to see someone, Hugh thought. And if she has, surely she would have told me. Unless this is really serious and she wants to keep it to herself until after Christmas. Much as it cost him he decided to go along with that.

After the decorations they had chosen together had been delivered, Selma told him that she was engaging a ‘clever little woman', an interior designer, to actually put them up.

‘She's marvellous, darling,' Selma said. ‘And she just happens to have time to fit us in between other engagements.'

‘But you've always made a grand job of it,' Hugh told her. ‘And it's such fun doing it together.'

‘Well, not this year,' Selma said irritably, and Hugh had felt himself dismissed as though he were an importunate child.

Selma was up and dressed by the time Hugh and Elise returned from church and she seemed very much like the old Selma, excited about the presents, pulling crackers, and hoping like any child to be the one who found the silver sixpence in the plum pudding. Hugh was pleased to see how tender she was with Elise. If they had been having any mother and daughter problems Selma seemed to be coping, and the day passed peacefully.

On Boxing Day Selma broke another family tradition. They did not go as a family to the pantomime. ‘I've taken a box at the Theatre Royal and I'm sending Elise off with those three chums of hers,' Selma told him. ‘They'll have much more fun on their own and the entertainment is supposed to be spectacular this year. I've heard one of the scenes is a vast lake with an army of girls entering the water and marching down and down until they are entirely submerged beneath the surface. I read in the newspaper that in one of the rehearsals a bathing cap was found floating on the water. You can imagine there was great panic until it was discovered that the owner of the cap was safely ashore and simply lost her cap in transit.'

As she recited this her eyes sparkled with amusement and for a moment she was the old Selma. ‘You know, I can't imagine how they're going to get a lake on the stage and what on earth any of this has to do with
Cinderella
!'

‘Doesn't it make you want to go along and see for yourself?' Hugh asked.

‘No, darling. I would rather have a peaceful day with you.'

 

When Matthew returned from taking Helen home at the end of Christmas Day he found his sister waiting for him.

‘This is getting to be a habit,' he said.

‘What do you mean?'

Patricia and her husband, George, were staying the night and she was already dressed for bed in pyjamas and dressing gown, with a scarf tied round her head like a turban, through which Matthew could catch a glimpse of metal curlers.

‘Can you actually sleep with those instruments of torture all over your scalp?' he asked.

She frowned and shrugged impatiently. ‘I asked you what you meant when you said this is getting to be a habit.'

‘Waylaying me in the kitchen. What do you want to know this time?'

‘Cocoa?'

‘Surely you haven't waited up when everyone else is slumbering just to make me a cup of cocoa?'

‘Oh, do be serious, Matthew. I meant, shall we have a cup of cocoa while we talk.'

‘If talk we must, then yes, for goodness sake let's have a cup of cocoa.'

Patricia had already begun to warm a pan of milk and soon brother and sister were sitting at the table eating slices of Christmas cake.

‘Well, then?' Matthew asked.

‘It's about Helen.'

‘I thought it would be.'

‘She's very nice.'

‘Of course she is.'

‘I didn't know what to expect when you said she was a waitress.'

‘I never thought of you as a snob, Patricia.'

‘I'm not. At least, to be perfectly honest I have to work at it, and you are my brother, and . . . oh, dear . . .'

Matthew decided to rescue her. ‘It's all right, I know that you're basically a good sort and I never had any doubt that you would like Helen no matter what her background.'

‘That's strange, isn't it?'

‘Helen's background?'

‘I mean the fact that you can't really tell what it is. She's . . . well . . . she's clever and rather ladylike, isn't she? And she has such good manners. I could tell the old folk were taken with her even if she was rather subdued at first.'

‘Of course she was subdued. She'd never met any of you before; she probably didn't know what to expect.'

‘Of course not. But I very soon got the feeling that she was observing us keenly and almost assessing us. Storing away the information for future reference if you like.'

‘You make her sound quite cold and calculating.'

‘Oh no, not that. Just, well, I don't know, a bit analytical, perhaps. But nevertheless I was impressed. She was quite a surprise.'

‘And is this why you are denying yourself George's warm embrace, just because you want to tell me you were impressed by Helen?'

Patricia didn't answer straight away. ‘Would you like a mince pie?' she asked. ‘Or there's some trifle left. I'm rather peckish, aren't you?'

‘No thanks,' Matthew said. ‘You can't be hungry after the amount we've eaten today. You're just procrastinating.'

‘Well, all right. I do like Helen but I hope you're not serious about her. There, I've said it.'

‘Serious? In what way?'

‘Don't be dim. Helen is an attractive girl. You've been taking her out. You've brought her home to meet your family – on Christmas Day! Isn't that getting serious?'

Matthew stared at his sister. He didn't know what to say because he didn't have an answer. He liked being with Helen. He thought she was funny and bright as well as being attractive in an unshowy way. They enjoyed the same books and films and could always find something to talk about. But was this a romance? He couldn't help but be aware that Helen would like it to be and he was certainly attracted to her. So why was he holding back? Was it because he knew deep inside that if he got too close to her, this witty, attractive, intelligent girl had the power to break his heart?

‘How old is Helen, Matthew?' his sister asked. ‘Nineteen?'

He nodded.

‘You're twenty-seven.'

‘That hardly makes me an old man.'

‘Of course not. And some girls are fully-fledged grown-up females at Helen's age, but she isn't. I really don't think it would be fair to her to rush her into a grown-up relationship.'

Matthew smiled.

‘What is it?'

‘Perhaps I'm the one that isn't ready for a grown-up relationship. I've never had one, you know. After all, what sort of woman would put up with my erratic lifestyle? It just wouldn't be fair. But don't worry, sister mine. I promise I won't do anything that would hurt Helen. I care too much for her to do that.'

Patricia had to be satisfied with that but she was annoyed with herself for not telling Matthew of her other concern. Something that was niggling away at the fringes of her mind. Patricia was sure there was more to Helen than she was telling anyone. Was it a case of still waters running deep, or was there something specific that the girl didn't want anyone – even Matthew – to know?

 

At lunchtime the next day every table at Stefano's was taken and a cheerful crowd of would-be diners who had not had the foresight to book in advance waited in the lounge bar area. Helen knew that most of these people were going to the matinee performances of the pantomimes and other Christmas entertainments. Some of them had come into town in good time for the early evening performances and intended to linger over a good meal.

This made things difficult for Stefano who was loath to move them on and free a table. Marina was made of sterner stuff and with the greatest of charm she persuaded those who had finished their meal to retire to the bar where the rising tide of cheerful voices made any real conversation almost impossible.

Helen preferred the restaurant to be busy. Slow days, especially when the weather was foul, were boring and made her wonder sometimes what on earth she was doing here. Today she was glad that she didn't have too much time to think. She had been nervous about meeting Matthew's family but she thought it had gone well. His mother and father obviously adored him and their welcome had been warm and friendly.

His brother-in-law George, who worked in the sub-basement control room at Broadcasting House, was quiet but droll and at times during the day he had caught her eye and sent complicit looks as if to say, ‘I know, we're both outsiders to this charmed circle but they're all right, really.'

Helen decided she liked him a lot, especially when she saw how patient he was with his rather bossy wife, Matthew's sister, Patricia. Patricia had taught physical education before she married and she reminded Helen of the sports teacher at her own old school. She was fit and hearty and inclined to organize people even when there was no need to do so. At one point when she had organized Helen, George and Matthew into helping her set the table for lunch she actually said, ‘Shall we get into two teams?'

‘Splendid idea,' he husband had responded. ‘Did you bring your whistle?'

After a moment of puzzlement when Patricia obviously couldn't understand why the others were laughing, she smiled and laughed herself. Not a bad sort, Helen decided, but as the day wore on she realized that jolly though she was, Patricia was not entirely happy about her being there.

The meal had been wonderful, the conversation interesting, and Matthew attentive. The drive home through the frosty streets with brightly lit Christmas trees displayed in suburban windows had been magical. In the warm confines of the car Helen had never felt so close to Matthew. They didn't talk much but what he did say made her feel part of his world, his life; so it was all the more disappointing when they arrived at her flat and he made no attempt to take her in his arms and kiss her with passion rather than the gentle kiss he dropped on her forehead when he saw her to the front door.