One Step at a Time (44 page)

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Authors: Beryl Matthews

BOOK: One Step at a Time
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He nodded and rolled his eyes. ‘And some looked grotesque. But it kept a lot of us busy rehearsing and setting up the stage, and gave everyone a much-needed laugh. The guards thought we were a lot of crazy Englishmen, and they might have been right. When we weren’t planning ways to escape, we were prancing around on a stage making fools of ourselves.’

There was a warm, comforting glow inside Amy as she listened. This was the first time Ben had talked freely about his time as a POW; even on their boozy night out, Howard couldn’t recall him mentioning it at all. All right, he and Stan were only recounting the lighter moments, and she guessed they must have been precious few, but the tight knot he had inside him was loosening a little. This was an important step forward for him.

‘Yeah, but it helped, didn’t it? The Major in our camp was a good bloke; he understood the importance of something to occupy our minds. The International Red Cross sent us a few books, and a football, and these were a blessing, along with the occasional letters.’ Stan squeezed his wife’s hand. ‘I only received three of your letters in all that time, but I treasured them, and read them over and over again.’

‘How many of ours did you get, Ben?’ Howard asked. ‘As soon as we knew you had been taken prisoner, we all wrote regularly.’

‘I received nothing from you until a few weeks before the Yanks liberated us.’ His eyes became bleak. ‘It wasn’t until then that I found out what had happened to John.’

‘Not knowing what was going on at home was a great worry.’ Stan grimaced, changing the subject. ‘Another way we used to occupy ourselves was with regular lectures. They were a mixed bunch in the camp, and you could learn about anything from fishing or keeping pigs to the ancient philosophers. Ben gave a few on the art of forgery.’

‘Forgery!’ Mrs Dalton exclaimed.

‘Oh yes, he was our official forger, and damned good he was. Charlie pinched a German pass and Ben made such a brilliant copy that a couple of men just walked out of the gate. Unfortunately, they were soon caught again, but it gave us all a lift at the time.’

‘Who was Charlie?’

‘He was a pickpocket, Howard,’ Ben explained. ‘A real villain, but he was a good friend to Stan and me.’

‘Yes, he was. He even gave some lectures on how to relieve people of their possessions without them feeling a thing. Very well attended, they were.’

‘He gave me his address, Stan, and we must look him up sometime.’

‘I’d like that. It will be interesting to see if he’s kept his promise and gone straight…or straight for someone’s pocket.’

They were laughing just as the front door closed with a crash, and Ted erupted into the kitchen. Amy and Mrs Dalton were on their feet in an instant when they saw his face and Howard rushed to his side. ‘What’s happened, Ted?’

‘The Germans have surrendered. It’s over! By God, it’s over!’

Pandemonium broke out with everyone on their feet and milling about so they could hug each other.

Hearing the commotion, the children rushed in from the garden, joining in the celebrations. It was bedlam as each little voice yelled that the war was over.

Ben swung Amy off her feet, spinning her round and round. And she cried, great tears running down her cheeks.

The long years of war had been a mixture of loss and gain. She had tragically lost her darling John, and that loss was sorely felt in this moment of euphoria,
but she had gained a daughter. And Ben and Howard had survived. That was something to be very, very grateful for.

40

The next day, 8 May, was the official VE day, and celebrations were in full swing. There were street parties going on all over the country, and their street was no exception. Grace was so excited to see the row of trestle tables stretching right down the road, laden with sandwiches and cakes. Every household had contributed something, making it quite a feast, in spite of the severe rationing. Many of the children were in fancy dress, and Mrs Dalton had taken the skirt off one of her silk evening dresses, sewing nearly all night to make Grace a dress and pair of wings. With her unruly mop of hair, Grace was an appealing-looking angel. John’s parents had arrived last night, determined not to miss their granddaughter having fun, and also to spend this special time with their daughter-in-law. It was a bittersweet time for them all, and Amy was glad to have them with her. Grace was growing more like John every day, and he should have been here to enjoy this, but he wasn’t, and no amount of longing and wishing could make it so. The little girl was happy, though, and had her two uncles. After what they had been through, that was not simply a blessing, but a miracle.

Ben’s parents and Howard’s had also arrived,
filling the house to capacity, but no one seemed bothered about sleeping. Howard was disappointed that Chrissie hadn’t been able to get away and join them as well. Amy couldn’t help wondering just how serious their relationship was, and if there would be a wedding in the near future.

A neighbour had a wind-up gramophone outside their house, so they had music as well. The children yelled and shouted as they enjoyed the food, and the grown-ups drank beer and danced to the sound of the Glenn Miller orchestra.

By the time it was dark, they were all tired out. Grace had already been asleep when her grandpa had carried her to bed and tucked her up; he and his wife had gazed at her with tears in their eyes, remembering their son who was no longer with them. Amy knew that many would be experiencing great sadness while the country went wild with joy.

That night everyone slept where they could – in chairs, on the floor – but nobody cared, and in the morning, the house gradually emptied as they all returned to their own homes.

Mrs Dalton sighed and put the kettle on. ‘Now let’s try and get back to normal, and the first thing to do is have a nice cup of tea.’

With nods of agreement, they all sat down in their usual places around the large kitchen table.

‘I think this would be a good time to decide about the future.’ Howard looked at Ben. ‘We’ve got to get
back in business. Amy and I have been working for some time, and now have a good stock of items to sell. We should open another shop without delay. After the austere years of the war, people will be looking for a way to brighten up their homes and lives.’

‘Agreed.’ Ben nodded, then gazed around the table. ‘I know I’ve been difficult since I came back, and I still want to shut myself away, but I’m fighting it. You’ve all been understanding, and that has helped a lot. I’ve been grateful for your support.’ His smile was wry. ‘But the one who brought me back to my senses the most was Grace. She stood in front of me, little face showing her hurt, and told me I wasn’t nice.’

‘Ah well, she would,’ Mrs Dalton said with more than a touch of pride. ‘That little one speaks her mind, and too bad if you don’t like it.’

That summing-up of her daughter brought a smile to Amy’s face, and made everyone grin. Her little girl was next door at the moment, playing with their neighbours’ two children.

‘Getting involved in starting up our business again might help me adjust a bit more quickly.’ Ben leant his elbows on the table. ‘So what do you suggest, Howard?’

‘Well, I’ve got two pieces of news. First, I think I’ve found suitable premises in the King’s Road. A bit further up this time, and larger, but it will need a lot of work done on the inside before we can open. I only saw it last week and haven’t done anything about it until you all see it.’

‘Sounds good; we’ll have a look at it today.’ Ben nodded to his friend. ‘And what was the second piece of news?’

‘Chrissie is back at Aldershot again, and I managed to phone her yesterday. I asked her to marry me… and she agreed.’

Amy squealed in delight, throwing her arms around Howard’s neck and hugging him. ‘That’s wonderful! Have you told your parents? When’s the wedding?’

Laughing, he stood up, as everyone wanted to congratulate him. ‘One question at a time. Yes, I’ve told my parents, and we haven’t had time to make any plans. She will be in the army for another three months, so we will probably get married after she’s demobbed.’

‘I haven’t met her yet,’ Ben complained, but he was clearly delighted for his friend. ‘So, when am I going to see her?’

‘She’s hoping to get a few days’ leave soon.’

‘This is so exciting.’ Amy beamed with happiness. ‘You’ll like her, Ben. She’s a lovely girl, and helped to deliver Grace.’

‘I’ll look forward to that. How did you manage a romance in wartime, Howard?’

‘It wasn’t easy, and I’ll be damned glad when she’s out of the services. We didn’t make any decisions while things were uncertain, and we could only see each other occasionally, but we kept in touch as much as we could.’

Mrs Dalton looked thoughtful. ‘Where are you
going to live? You could have the whole of the basement, if that would be enough for you.’

Howard sighed with relief. ‘I was hoping you would say that. We’d love to live here.’

‘Oh, well, that’s settled then.’

Amy felt their landlady’s relief. In her excitement about Howard marrying, it hadn’t occurred to her that he would move. This was such a happy house, and it would have been awful if one of them left, but it was large and had plenty of room for all of them.

They settled down again, getting back to the business of the shop.

‘Paintings, Ben.’ Howard did a rough sketch of the upstairs they would use as a gallery. ‘You’re going to have twice the wall space in this shop, so can you repeat that one you gave to Stan, and a few more like it?’

‘I expect I could. I did a lot of drawings in the camp, but one sadistic guard found them and tore them to shreds.’

Amy bit back a gasp of dismay, knowing just how badly that would have hurt his artistic heart.

‘I did more after that, but when they shifted us to another camp, I lost track of them. All I could concentrate on was staying alive. Still, I’ve got the pictures in my head, so I should be able to reproduce them.’

‘Good. Start tomorrow. The more paintings we have, the better.’

Ben grimaced. ‘I know you all liked the painting,
and Stan loved it, but do you think the public would buy something like that?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ Amy assured him. ‘It was a study of men and emotions, and I thought it was a compelling subject, and beautifully painted.’

The glance he sent her was one of pure affection, making her heart trip.

‘I finished Grace’s portrait last night, so would you like to see it?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Amy was already on her feet. ‘Have you shown it to Grace?’

‘I want to frame it before I do that.’

They followed each other up to the studio, gathering round in anticipation as Ben removed the sheet covering the picture.

There was a stunned silence, and Amy was speechless as she gazed at her daughter. Grace was sitting on the rough floorboards with her doll beside her, and her head tilted up, looking straight at the man who had been painting her. There was an impish little smile on her face, showing clearly that she had been enjoying herself. The light was coming in from the window behind her, filtering through her mass of unruly hair and casting a shadow on the floor. It was breathtaking, and the eyes looking out from the picture were John’s.

‘Oh, Ben, when did you learn to paint like that?’ Howard was quite overcome, just like the rest of them.

Amy smiled up at Ben. She would have loved to show her gratitude by hugging him, as she had always
done. But there was still a reserve about him that made her cautious. He was inclined to make a slight move away if she got too close. He was still having trouble adjusting to freedom. So instead, she just said, ‘Thank you, that is the most beautiful picture I have ever seen.’

‘Glad you like it.’

‘Like it!’ Mrs Dalton sighed. ‘That’s no way to talk about a painting of such exquisite artistry, Benjamin.’

Ted nodded. ‘I agree. You have excelled yourself. When are you going to show Grace?’

‘I’ll frame it tonight and we’ll have a proper unveiling in the morning.’ He gave a wry smile at Amy. ‘She will be my harshest critic, and tell me exactly what she thinks of her portrait.’

The next morning, they made a great production of the unveiling. Howard stood Grace on a chair in front of the easel, holding her firmly in place, and Ted bowed, giving her a little bunch of daisies to hold. She laughed, bouncing up and down in Howard’s restraining hands.

‘Are you ready?’ Ben twitched the sheet.

‘Let me see. Let me see!’

With a theatrical flourish, he whipped away the sheet.

She stopped moving, staring at the picture, open-mouthed and silent. Then she glanced from one person to the next, then back to the picture. ‘I’m on the floor. I wasn’t sitting on the floor, Uncle Ben.
I was on that chair… And you’ve painted my dolly.’

Amy smothered a laugh at her daughter’s puzzled expression. ‘Uncle Ben only needed to sketch you first, then he painted you like that because it made a better picture.’

‘It’s called artistic licence,’ Howard explained. ‘He didn’t want to make you sit on the floor for ages and ages. It would have been uncomfortable for you, and you wouldn’t have been able to keep still.’

‘He did make me sit for a long time.’ She sniggered. ‘Do I look like that?’

Putting a hand over her mouth, Amy had to turn away when she saw the look of mock dismay on Ben’s face. She knew he was pleased with the painting, because she had seen it in his eyes the night before, but he was now going to tease Grace.

‘Oh, she doesn’t like it,’ he moaned, mopping his eyes with a paint rag. ‘My career is finished!’

Mrs Dalton and Ted were having as much trouble as Amy, but, somehow, Howard was managing to keep a straight face.

‘I do like it, Uncle Ben.’ Grace gave him a hesitant smile, tipping her head to one side. ‘My dolly’s pretty.’

That was too much for all of them, and they collapsed in helpless laughter. Grace’s face was so expressive.

Ben swung Grace off the chair and into his arms, facing the picture. ‘Don’t you think you look pretty?’

She giggled, squirming round to see her mother. ‘Is that really me, Mummy?’

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