Threads of Silk (3 page)

Is he still there?’ Ellie asked.

‘No, he died a few years ago.’

‘And does Harry know all this?’

‘Of course. Your mum never hid anything from him.’

Poor Harry. No wonder no one spoke about it. Gran had called it a hospital but Ellie knew how the kids round their way would have taunted him if they’d known his dad was in the ‘loony bin’.

‘So Judith was right,’ Ellie murmured. ‘He’s not my real brother. Why was it kept a secret then?’ she asked.

‘It wasn’t a secret, love,’ Gran exclaimed with a throaty laugh. ‘Everyone around here knew. I suppose it never occurred to us that you didn’t know as well. Besides, people want to get on with their lives, not keep talking about the war.’

‘I’m glad you told me,’ Ellie said. She looked up at her grandmother. ‘Is that why Dad doesn’t like Harry? He’s always picked on him as long as I can remember.’

‘Probably a bit of jealousy there if you ask me,’ Gran said.

‘I can’t get over it – Harry not being my brother, I mean.’

Gran laughed. ‘What’s the difference? He’s still our ’Arry, aint’ he?’ She closed the album and said, ‘It’s all water under the bridge now, love. Put it away and let’s have another cup of tea.’

Ellie hugged the hot-water bottle to her stomach as she replayed the conversation with Gran in her mind. Everything now seemed so much clearer. That strange feeling she’d had when Harry had kissed her goodbye at the station didn’t matter any more.

He’d looked down at her, a twinkle in his blue eyes, his fair hair flopping over his forehead, despite the army’s efforts to tame it.

‘You’re growing up, Ellie love,’ he’d said. ‘I won’t know you when I come home again.’

‘I wish you didn’t have to go,’ she said.

‘You won’t have time to miss me.’ He laughed. ‘I expect those grammar school boys have got their eye on you. You’ll forget all about me.’

She’d tried to protest but he’d given her a quick hug, before getting on the train. She’d stood waving, long after the train had pulled out from Waterloo.

Now, she brushed away a tear. It would be ages before he came home again. And when he did, would he still want to know her, once he knew what Bert had done?

Ellie looked up from her porridge as Mary came into the room, smiling and holding a letter.

‘It’s from Harry,’ she said.

Usually Ellie would grab it before her mother had a chance to open it. But, still confused about her feelings for him, she listened half-heartedly as Mary read the letter aloud. ‘Thank goodness he’s still in Germany. I thought they might send him out to Cyprus with all that trouble out there,’ she said.

‘Best place for ’im,’ Bert muttered.

Another row was brewing and Ellie didn’t wait to hear any more. She pushed her dish away, grabbing her blazer off the back of the chair. ‘Mustn’t be late – exams today,’ she said.

‘Don’t know why you’re bothering. I’ve already told you there’s a job waiting for you when you finish school,’ Bert said.

Mary turned from the stove, about to speak, but Ellie couldn’t face another row. She picked up her school satchel and ran down the stairs.

The high wooden gate into the back yard was ajar and she went to close it. Not like Solly to leave it open – there was some valuable furniture stored there. Her hand was on the latch when she noticed a pile of boxes in the corner. Some had words on the side in red. ‘Pye’ it said. Others had ‘Bush’ stamped on the side. She smiled. Maybe Solly was fed up with secondhand furniture and was branching out into televisions and radios.

But as she hurried towards the bus stop, another possibility struck her and her legs began to tremble. Dad had been extra flush with money lately. Was this the reason?

Ellie leaned against the bus stop and took a deep breath. Should she tell Solly or her mother what she suspected or would it just cause more trouble? If only Harry were here, she thought. He’d know what to do. Besides, he was the only one capable of standing up to Bert.

She shook her head. No, it was a good thing Harry was still away. She still wasn’t ready to face him. Would she ever be able to look him in the eye again? There had been a time when she could have told him anything. Now she felt ashamed and confused, wondering whether everything was somehow her fault. After that dreadful night, she’d been listless for days, hardly answering when anyone spoke to her. Mum thought she had the flu and wanted her to stay off school a bit longer, but she’d insisted on going. She couldn’t let those years of study go to waste by missing her exams.

To her surprise, the English exam went well despite her preoccupation. She still had the art exams to look forward to – saving the best till last, she thought, as she got off the bus and started up the road. They’d been let off early, as soon as the exam finished, and she thought about popping in to see Gran.

Then she remembered the letter from Harry. She’d been in such a state that she hadn’t waited to hear his news that morning.

Mum had just got up and was combing her hair in the mirror over the fireplace when Ellie came in. ‘You’re early, love. I was just going to sit down with a cuppa before starting on the tea,’ she said.

‘I’ll do it, Mum.’ Ellie poured water into the brown earthenware teapot and got cups off the dresser. She glanced at her mother, who was leaning back in the chair, her eyes closed, noticing the blue shadows under them. ‘You all right, Mum?’ she asked.

‘Just tired, love. This night work is getting to me.’

‘Why don’t you ask to change then?’

‘More money on nights.’ Mary sighed and took the cup, taking a grateful sip. She drained her tea and stood up. ‘Better get on with the cooking,’ she said. ‘Dad’ll be home soon.’

‘I’ll answer Harry’s letter then – unless you want me to help.’

Mary shook her head. ‘That’s all right, love. You write this time. I don’t know what to say to him after the shock he gave me.’

Ellie grabbed the letter from behind the clock. ‘What’s happened? Are they sending him to Cyprus?’

‘He’s getting married.’

Ellie’s stomach churned and she sat down, crumpling the envelope in her fist. ‘Did you say married? He can’t be.’ She swallowed the sob that threatened to burst from her. No one must know how she felt.

‘He’s met some German girl and got her into trouble.’ Mary’s voice was flat and her lips tightened. She turned away and began to chop the carrots.

Ellie slowly withdrew the single sheet of paper from the envelope. The letters danced in front of her eyes and she had to blink to make out the words. Even after reading it again she still didn’t want to believe it. That last goodbye kiss had meant nothing, then. How naïve she’d been to think it had.

Harry looked across the crowded bar, peering through the thick smoke which made the dark beer cellar even darker. The place was crowded – mostly with British soldiers and young German girls. The men were only too pleased to buy drinks and offer their cheap cigarettes in exchange for an evening of feminine company. But Harry was beginning to regret his nights out with the boys and their inevitable outcome as he waited for Gerda.

Gerda Meyer, with her blonde curls and saucy look, reminded him of his cousin Sheila. And she spoke excellent English too, which made it easier to have a conversation. Not that they talked much that first night – the bar was too noisy. But they’d met again and walked by the river, where he found himself telling her about his family and his plans for the future. He had no intention of going back to Bethnal Green and working on Sid’s vegetable stall. He’d signed up for the army’s course in motor mechanics and maintenance and now helped keep the jeeps and lorries in good repair. When he got home, he planned to get a job in a garage and eventually to have his own business. Harry could see the day coming when everyone would have a car – not just those who were well-off. There’d be plenty of work for him in the future.

Gerda had listened patiently, seeming to recognize his need to escape from his background. She too had struggled, though in her case the war was more to blame than poverty. Her father had been in the navy, a stoker who’d gone down with his ship, and her mother had worked in a grocery store. But they’d lost everything in the punishing bombing raids of 1944 and 1945. The store, their home and Gerda’s school had vanished in a pile of rubble.

She and her mother had been forced to scratch a living among the ruins – might even have starved if Mrs Meyer hadn’t taken up with an American GI when the allies entered the stricken city. Gerda showed no shame when she told Harry.

‘I was still a child only. To me the food he brought was the most important thing. You understand, Harry?’ she’d said in her charming accent.

At least her mother’s past had made it easier for Gerda to invite the young Englishman to her home. Mrs Meyer wasn’t in a position to disapprove, although Harry knew that he and his mates were not always welcomed so warmly by their former enemies.

But he hadn’t intended things to go so far. He’d just been grateful for the company – and he had to admit Gerda’s open admiration had turned his head a bit. But that was in the early days. She was attractive and fun to be with and an evening with her was better than poring over engineering manuals back at the barracks.

Then one night he’d had a drop too much to drink and she’d been all over him. The inevitable had happened. He didn’t regret it but he should have known she’d read more into it than he was prepared to give. After all, she seemed like a nice girl – not one of those who gave her favours in return for a pair of nylons or a few drinks. And when she’d told him she was pregnant, of course he’d asked her to marry him. But it had meant the end of his dreams and ambitions. How could he do a garage apprenticeship and support a wife and baby?

He gazed gloomily into his tankard, looked up and scanned the crowded room again. There she was, biting her lip as she fought her way through the crowd. In that second, despite the blonde curls and the make-up, she reminded him of Ellie and something happened to him in the pit of his stomach. This time it was impossible to ignore the feeling. How could he have been so blind to what had been staring him in the face since his last leave?

As Gerda approached the table, her blue eyes lighting up as she spotted him, Harry forced himself to smile back. But inside he was cursing his stupidity. He would do the right thing – but it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life.

Writing to his family had been hard too. But he had to break the news some time. He could just see Bert’s knowing smirk when he learned that Gerda was pregnant. Mary wouldn’t be happy about it either, but she would realize he was trying to put matters right by marrying the girl. It was Ellie he was most concerned about, and he didn’t know how he was going to face her. He just knew it wouldn’t be possible to carry on acting as if she were still his little sister. Maybe it would be best if he never went back to London at all.

Ellie hadn’t been able to eat the fried liver and bacon her mother had prepared. Just the thought of food made her feel sick. She had pushed her plate away and stood up when the door at the foot of the stairs banged open. Muttered swearing and heavy steps on the stairs heralded Bert’s homecoming and, as he lurched into the room, she sidled towards the door, hoping to get up to her room before he said anything.

But he anticipated her, smiling glassily. ‘So, my angel’s been doing her exams today. That means no homework, so you can come and sit with me while I eat my dinner. Tell me all about it.’

It was rare for him to show any interest in her studies and she couldn’t help the little glow of pleasure when he praised her for doing so well at school. The shock of Harry’s news eased a little as she started to tell her father about the composition she’d written for the English exam.

His mood changed instantly. ‘What they teaching you all that nonsense for?’ he asked. ‘Fat lot of good that’ll do you when it comes time to leave school and get a job.’ He banged his knife and fork on the table for emphasis.

‘Well, if I pass all the exams, it’ll help me to get a better job,’ Ellie ventured timidly. She didn’t think this was the right time to bring up the art scholarship.

‘I already told you there’s a job waitin’ for yer,’ Bert said, leaning over and touching her cheek.

Ellie glanced anxiously at her mother. Surely she’d speak up. But Mary avoided her eyes. ‘At least you won’t be waiting at tables,’ she said.

Bert laughed. ‘Too right – can’t have you wastin’ all that education.’

‘What’s this job then?’ Ellie was intrigued in spite of herself.

Her father tapped his nose. ‘You’ll soon find out. I’ll let you know when the boss is ready to talk to yer about it.’ He got up from the table and went to slump in his armchair by the fire.

Ellie glanced at her mother but Mary still refused to look at her. She poured her husband a cup of tea and took his empty plate to the sink.

What’s the use, Ellie thought? Hadn’t she always known in her heart that college – especially art college – was just a dream? Was it really worth another row, especially with Mum looking so poorly these days? Quickly she gathered her books together and moved towards the door. She wasn’t quick enough. As she reached for the door handle, Bert caught her hand. ‘Come and give us a goodnight kiss then, Angel.’

Reluctantly she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, trying not to flinch as the beery smell wafted towards her. He pulled her against him, kissing her and stroking her hair. ‘My little girl’s growing up,’ he murmured.

The sound of a plate crashing on to the draining board made Ellie jump and Bert’s hand fell away. Ellie seized the opportunity to move out of reach. ‘Goodnight Dad, ’night Mum,’ she said and quickly left the room.

Upstairs she put her school books down and sank on to the bed. Her knees trembled and her heart was thudding. It seemed that all her life she had lived with tension in her family. As she did every night now, she wedged the chair against the door – a futile gesture, she knew.

By the time she was undressed the trembling had stopped. But her mind was still downstairs, trying to make sense of the undercurrents which ebbed and flowed around the members of her family.

Mum had been in a funny mood earlier that evening and it wasn’t just her obvious disquiet about Harry’s shocking news. Dad hadn’t done anything to upset her either – other than being late for dinner.

Ellie chewed at her thumbnail. No. It must be something she’d done. Had she guessed about what had happened with Dad? Ellie had grown up a lot lately, especially since Sheila had left home. She’d listened to the whispered conversations of the older girls at school, asking questions, not caring if they laughed at her, always careful not to reveal the reason for her curiosity. She had to have answers to the problems that had puzzled her for years.

Now she knew that what her father had done was wrong, despite what Sheila had said about having to put up with it. But a new worry had taken its place – her feelings for Harry. Childish hero-worship had given way to a new emotion. Her recent discovery that she was in no way related to him had made her feel better. There was nothing wrong or abnormal in feeling this way. But now he was getting married. How stupid and naïve she had been to dream that he might no longer think of her as his little sister.

Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains and Ellie screwed up her eyes against the ache which throbbed in her head. At least Dad had left her alone last night, probably too drunk to get up the stairs. She turned towards the wall, reluctant to face another day of family squabbles and tensions. She had to get up though. It was the art exam today.

Downstairs, Mum had just got home from her shift at the hospital. She looked even more tired than usual, but she still bustled around, doing the chores. She would wait until Dad was up before allowing herself to fall into bed.

Ellie made some toast and poured a cup of tea for herself and her mother. She sat down at the table, fiddling with the teaspoon before plucking up courage to ask. ‘What’s this job Dad’s on about?’ She tried to keep her voice bright and interested but Mum must have sensed how she really felt.

Mary sat down opposite and reached across the table for her hand. ‘Oh, love. I’m so sorry. I know you’d got your heart set on college but you must have known….’ Her voice trailed away.

‘It was just a dream, wasn’t it, Mum?’

A bitter smile twisted Mary’s lips. ‘Can’t live on dreams, love.’

But you could, Ellie thought. Dreams had sustained her through so many bad times – dreams of being a real artist one day, of Harry and a life with him. A little sob escaped her.

Mum squeezed her hand. ‘You’ll still have your painting. You mustn’t give that up. Who knows, maybe one day…?’

‘One day! So – the job, Mum.’

‘Did you hear Tommy Green’s opening a new nightclub – up West?’ Mary asked.

At first Ellie thought her mother was trying to change the subject. Surely Dad didn’t expect her to work for Tommy Green?

‘It’s a real posh place apparently. All on the level. I was a bit worried at first but your dad told me Tommy wants to go straight. You know he hasn’t always been exactly legit.’

‘What sort of club is it?’

‘Somewhere posh people can meet for a drink, have a game of cards – that sort of thing,’ Mary said. ‘You’ll have to ask Dad when he gets up. Besides, you’ll be late for school if you don’t get a move on.’

Ellie didn’t see the point of taking the art exam now. But deep down there was always the hope that if she won the scholarship to art school they’d let her take it up. It was a forlorn hope and Ellie consoled herself with the thought that if she started earning, her mother wouldn’t have to work so hard.

‘You need a rest, Mum. I’ll finish clearing up. My exam’s not till later.’

‘I must admit I’ve been feeling a bit down lately – so tired all the time.’ Mary sighed.

Ellie finished her toast and took the plates to the sink. ‘I bet Sheila’s pleased Tommy’s going straight,’ she said.

‘Don’t mention her name,’ Mary snapped, biting back a sob. ‘I couldn’t believe it. After threatening to beat Tommy up only a few weeks ago, your dad’s completely changed his tune. He said Tommy’s treating her OK and she’s fallen on her feet.’

Ellie had hoped her mother would have forgiven Sheila by now. But Mary had strong principles and it would be a long time before Sheila was allowed to set foot in the flat. ‘It’s all Bert’s fault, letting her work there in the first place.’ Mary started to cry. ‘And now, you’ll be in the same boat.’

‘Don’t get upset, Mum. I’ll be all right. Anyway, you’ve still got me – and Harry,’ Ellie said.

Mary cried even harder.

Ellie’s footsteps dragged as she went towards the bus stop, wondering whether all these exams were a waste of time like her father said. She’d always been determined to have a real career and not be dependent on some man for the luxuries in life – like her sister. When she thought about it logically she had to admit she’d been deluding herself. She’d known ever since she started at the grammar school how Bert felt about education – especially for girls. The fact that he’d allowed her to stay on past the legal leaving age was a miracle, only brought about by her mother’s insistence. Auntie Vi agreed with Bert – about the only thing they did see eye to eye on, Ellie thought.

‘What’s it all in aid of?’ Vi had said. ‘She’ll only end up getting married and having a load of kids – like most of them round here.’

Gran tried to stand up for her. ‘Our Ellie’s got a brain in her head. She deserves a chance.’

But Vi had pursed her lips and folded her arms, refusing to change her views.

The opposition only fuelled Ellie’s determination. She’d show them, she thought now, as the examiner rang the bell for them to begin. She’d always loved drawing and painting but it wasn’t until Miss Evans had taken the class to the Victoria and Albert Museum during a half-term holiday that she’d really considered art as a career. The visit had been an inspiration. She’d been enchanted by the display of eighteenth- and ninetenth-century costumes. But for her, the highlight of the school trip was the textiles: the bed hangings and wall coverings of silk, richly embroidered or woven in intricate patterns. How she wished she’d been allowed to take them out of their glass cases, to feel the smoothness of the silk, the rich textures of the brocades.

She’d had to be content with the coloured postcards she’d bought as well as the sketch-book she’d filled with drawings of the designs she’d seen. One day she’d be designing her own materials.

The time flew as she became absorbed and the bell marking the end of the exam made her jump.

Judith was waiting for her in the corridor. ‘Was it that bad? You love art – why so glum?’

‘I’m just thinking it was all a waste of time. It doesn’t matter how well I do, they won’t let me go to college.

‘They’ll have to if you get the scholarship.’

Ellie didn’t answer. It was impossible to make her friend understand.

At home, all was quiet. Mary had left a note propped on the mantelpiece saying she was round at Gran’s and that Dad wouldn’t be home till late. Good, Ellie thought, I can do some more painting. Might as well, while she had the chance. She wouldn’t have time once she started work. Since the exam her mind was buzzing and she had an idea for another design. She sat down at the kitchen table with her box of paints and a selection of brushes. Soon she was lost in a world of colour and beauty. The delicate combination of scrolls and ribbons, with tiny butterflies interwoven, was based on a Chinese silk hanging she’d seen in the museum.

As she worked, using a fine brush to paint in the gossamer wings of the butterflies, she imagined the finished painting reproduced many times over. It would look equally nice on material or wallpaper, she thought. She pictured her bedroom done out in the shades of turquoise and mauve she’d used in the painting, with matching curtains and bedspread.

The idea excited her. That was where Dad and Auntie Vi were wrong. They said art was a waste of time, just painting pretty pictures. She could understand why they thought she wouldn’t earn a living from that. But if she showed this to them, explained how it could be used in a practical way, perhaps they’d stop their carping. Harry would understand, she thought, wishing he was here. Then the realization hit her with a jolt. She’d been so absorbed in her work that for a few hours the memory of his devastating news had faded into the background.

Another dream shattered, she thought, as she washed her brushes and cleaned her paintbox. Despite her desperate hope that Harry wouldn’t go through with the marriage, she knew she was deluding herself. She’d have to get on with her life and make the best of things. If only she’d be allowed to follow that other dream of a career in art, she might feel better, she told herself.

She studied the finished painting – the best she’d ever done. She couldn’t waste her talent. Squaring her shoulders, she decided to pluck up her courage and tell Mum about the art scholarship. Perhaps she could talk Dad round, especially if she explained it wouldn’t cost too much with the grant she’d receive.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear her father come in.

She jumped when he said, ‘Where’s your mother?’

‘She’s round Gran’s. I’ll get your tea, Dad.’ With relief she saw that, for a change, he didn’t look as if he’d been drinking. Instead of getting angry, he smiled. ‘No rush, Angel.’ He came over to the table and looked at her painting. ‘What you bin up to, then?’

Ellie smiled back uncertainly as Bert picked up the painting. ‘What’s it meant to be?’ he asked.

‘It’s a design – for wallpaper,’ she said. Hope flared. He was showing an interest for a change. Perhaps now would be a good time to mention the art scholarship.

He turned the paper round in his hand and looked at it again. ‘Oh, I see,’ he said flatly and put it back on the table. ‘What you wasting your time with this rubbish for? Won’t be any use to you when you’re working.’ His voice had hardened, heralding one of his swift changes of mood.

Ellie reached for the painting but Bert screwed it into a ball and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and landed in front of the kitchen range.

She made a small sound of protest but he pulled her towards him. ‘Your mother tells me your teachers are very pleased with you,’ he said.

She nodded and smiled tentatively, nervous at the change in tone, realizing from the glint in his eyes that he hadn’t finished with her. ‘All these exams. What’s the point?’

Ellie had asked herself the same question.

‘You don’t need exams. You’re starting work soon. And don’t argue. I’ll not have you letting my old mate down.’ With each sentence, he gave her a little shake.

‘But, Dad, Miss Evans said—’ Ellie began.

‘Miss Evans – good ’eavens!’ There was no humour in Bert’s voice. ‘That’s all I ’ear about lately.’ He pushed her away roughly so that she was forced to clutch the edge of the table for support. ‘I know she’s been feeding you ideas about college and all.’ He banged the table. ‘Why is it that some stuck-up vinegary old spinster of a schoolteacher thinks she knows better than your own father?’