When Wishes Come True (13 page)

‘Anybody listening to us would think we were two sheets to the wind, yer know that, don’t yer?’ Rita pushed her chair back. ‘I’m glad I got someone as daft as meself for a neighbour ’cos it adds a bit of spice to me life. But I’m going to love yer and leave yer now, and get me dishes washed and the grate cleaned out. The washing has been steeping all night in the dolly tub, so the worst of the dirt will be out. I’ll have a bash with the dolly peg for a few minutes, then rinse the clothes, put them through the mangle and have them on the line in no time. There’s a bit of a blow out, so they should be ready for ironing tonight.’

Aggie put her hands flat on the table and pushed herself up. ‘What time will yer be ready for the shops? Say half-eleven?’

‘That’s fine, sunshine, I’ll give yer a knock as near to that as I can. And don’t sit down again when I’m gone, get cracking on yer housework.’

Aggie stood to attention, as did her bosom, and saluted. ‘Aye, aye, sir! Three bleeding bags full, sir!’

Over the years since her fall from grace Evelyn had made the most of the clothes she had. No one would have guessed on the Monday morning when she entered the office that her coat and dress were years old, and that she’d spent the weekend sponging and pressing them. She was an attractive woman, with an eye-catching figure. Buoyed up with newfound confidence she walked with the air of a woman who knew what she wanted in life and intended to have it. And adding to her feeling of well-being was the news that Mr Simon had decided that as Miss Saunders would be spending a lot of time in his office over the next two weeks, making sure that everything was up-to-date for his nephew to take over, her office could be assigned to Mr Philip and his new private secretary. He would, of course, have to spend some time with his uncle, familiarising himself with those clients who were important to the firm, but several hours a day could be spent getting his secretary used to his way of working. Although Evelyn kept her cool exterior when told the news, she was gloating inside.

Philip Astbury was already in his temporary office when Evelyn opened the door. He was sitting in a leather swivel chair, smartly dressed as usual and wearing a satisfied grin. He jumped to his feet when she entered and waved to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. He was congratulating himself on being so lucky in having been handed such a stunning-looking woman to work for him. He was sure they were going to get on very well together. ‘Good morning, Mrs Sinclair. My Uncle Simon has kindly given us the use of this office until such time as he and Miss Saunders finally retire. Jolly thoughtful of him, don’t you agree?’

‘Extremely generous.’ Evelyn placed her handbag at the side of the chair, took her time over sitting down, and once seated crossed one slender leg over the other. It was done deliberately to catch his attention, and she smiled inwardly as she saw his eyes following the movement. ‘We must show our gratitude by taking full advantage of his kind offer.’ She bent down to take a note-pad from her bag. ‘I have been practising my shorthand over the weekend and feel I have made real progress. Perhaps you would like to dictate a letter to an imaginary client, to test my speed?’ She lowered her eyelids seductively and said softly, ‘You see, I aim to please.’

‘Oh, I have no doubt I shall be well pleased, Mrs Sinclair.’ Philip sat up straight and leaned his elbows on the desk. ‘So, this letter to an imaginary client. Shall we begin?’

Evelyn had her pencil poised in readiness. ‘May I crave your indulgence, Mr Philip, and ask that you do not dictate too quickly? Otherwise I shall become very embarrassed and my hand will shake. Now, can I have the name and address of the client, please?’

His eyes shining with laughter, Philip said, ‘How about my writing to a certain charming lady by the name of Evelyn Sinclair, to ask if she would do me the honour of having lunch with me today? I’m sure Uncle Simon would not be too upset if he were to lunch alone at his club, and it would give you and me a chance to get better acquainted?’

Although her heart was fluttering, and she would indeed be delighted to dine with such an attractive man, Evelyn let her head rule. To rush into anything would be completely the wrong thing to do with a man who was obviously very fond of getting his own way with the female sex. The thought of a nice meal in one of the finest restaurants was tempting, but Evelyn was aiming higher than a few stolen moments.

‘I really don’t think so, Mr Philip.’ She met his eyes and held them. ‘I think we should keep our relationship on a strictly boss and secretary basis.’ Head bent slightly, and eyelids fanning her cheeks, she said softly, ‘At least, for the time being.’

‘Oh, and how long is for the time being? It could be anything from a moment to a year or more. Would you really be so cruel to your new boss?’

‘That is the problem, Mr Philip, don’t you see? It is because you are my boss that I must not be seen to be taking advantage of you by flirting. Perhaps when we know each other better we will be able to meet away from the office and the gossiping.’

‘Is that a promise I can hold you to, Mrs Sinclair?’

Evelyn was very sure of this because she had lain awake in bed last night planning the whole operation. And so far it was working just as she had planned. ‘Yes, Mr Philip, that is a promise you can hold me to. And I’ll see if it can be arranged in the not too distant future.’ Lifting her pad, she said, ‘Now, can we proceed with the letter to the imaginary client, please?’

That evening, as she sat on the tram on her journey home, Evelyn told herself she must somehow find the money for new clothes if she was to make a real impression on a man-about-town like Mr Philip. His family were almost as rich as the Lister-Sinclairs, very well known in the higher social circle. The dress she had on today was dark blue, knee-length, and showed off her figure to perfection. It had cost a fortune when new, and she had certainly had her money’s worth out it. She also had a deep maroon one, also well-cut and fitting her very well. But two working dresses were not enough; she really needed another two, at least. Her mind went to the large trunk in her bedroom which was filled to the brim with fine silk dresses, long and short, several silk and satin shoulder capes, feather boas, costume jewellery, shoes made of the softest leather, and several wide-brimmed hats. None of these had been out of the trunk since Charles had gone off to war, for with his death had come an end to her social life. Nothing in that trunk was any good for day wear, but she was sure there would be something suitable that she could wear to go out for an evening meal with Mr Philip. She’d go through the trunk tonight, after Amelia had gone to sleep. Thinking of her brought a frown to Evelyn’s face. How could she get ahead in life when her daughter would always be holding her back? For Evelyn was under no illusion about her new boss. The admiration and desire in his eyes would soon disappear if he found out she had a seven-year-old daughter.

Evelyn saw her tram stop looming up, and made her way down the aisle to the platform. As she waited for the tram to come to a shuddering halt, she reminded herself that her daughter would be eight a week on Saturday, and was having tea with Miss Maudsley then. This gave birth to an idea of how she could manage an evening being wined and dined by Mr Philip. Stepping down on to the pavement, Evelyn told herself it would be simple enough to find an excuse for asking her neighbour if she would allow Amelia to stay with her until ten o’clock. After all, there would be no school the next day so the girl could have an extra hour in bed. Oh, there would be a way around it, she was sure. There had to be if she were ever to get out of the working-class rut she was in.

While her mother was thinking of ways to off-load her daughter on to her neighbour, Amelia was in Bessie’s kitchen helping to dry the dishes. Her pretty face was flushed with laughter. Oh, the last two hours had been the happiest of her life! Miss Bessie was so funny, and it was a nice change not to have to worry about what she said. ‘I can come tomorrow, can’t I, Miss Bessie? We can play Snakes and Ladders again, and you won’t have to let me win ’cos I know how to play it now.’

‘Of course yer can come, sweetheart, it’s been a pleasure having someone to talk to and laugh with.’ Bessie handed a plate over to be dried. ‘I usually talk to the fireplace, and though we get on fine, there’s not much fun when yer never get an answer to a question.’

Amelia’s chuckle filled the tiny kitchen. ‘You don’t really talk to the fireplace, do yer, Miss Bessie?’

She kept the smile on her face, but groaned inside. Already there were signs of a Scouse accent creeping into the girl’s voice, and her mother would not be very happy about that. But Her Ladyship couldn’t put all the blame on Bessie, for the girl had been telling Bessie about the friends she’d made at school, and how she played with them in the playground. It was a dead cert they all had accents you could cut with a knife. ‘Don’t lose that nice way of speaking yer have, sweetheart, or yer mother will think it’s my fault and have me life. It’s no good saying I’ll learn to speak posh, ’cos I’m too old to change the habits of a lifetime even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I believe everyone should be natural, and not try and change themselves to please other folk.’

‘My friends all speak like you, Miss Bessie, and I do when I’m in school. Only not in front of my mother because she’s very strict.’

Bessie took her hands from the soapy water and pulled the plug out of the sink. As she watched the water running away, she thought what a sad life this young child had. In a roundabout way, when they were playing board games, she had asked what games Amelia had at home. Her face as innocent as a new-born babe’s, the child had answered that her mother didn’t believe in games, they were a waste of time. She was set homework to do by her mother apparently, and not allowed to leave the table until it was completed and every question right.

‘I think I heard the latch on the entry door open, sweetheart, so yer mother must be here for yer,’ Bessie told her now.

The expression on Amelia’s face changed completely, from a happy little girl’s to that of someone afraid they are going to be reprimanded for doing something wrong. ‘Don’t forget to tell my mother I’ve been good, and ask if I can come again tomorrow?’

This was all that could be said before the knock came on the door. ‘Come in, Mrs Sinclair,’ Bessie called. ‘Your daughter has been helping me wash and dry our dishes. I hope yer don’t mind me giving Amelia some dinner, do yer? It just means me cooking a bit extra, but if you have any objection then I’ll just give her a cup of tea and she can wait until you come home for her meal.’

No matter what Bessie had asked, Evelyn would have agreed. She needed this little woman, for she had no friends she could call on to mind her daughter. ‘That is extremely kind of you, Miss Maudsley, and I do hope Amelia was gracious in her thanks.’ Her voice was so sickly sweet, Bessie turned her head away. If it weren’t for the girl, and her affection for her, she would have told this false, lying snob to go to hell.

‘Amelia has been a pleasure to have as a guest. She is very polite, doesn’t answer back or give cheek, and we get on very well together.’ And for good measure, she added, ‘And her table manners are impeccable.’ That was a big word for Bessie, who felt like sticking out her tongue and telling Her Ladyship she wasn’t the only one who could get her tongue around big words and know the meaning of them. ‘If you still want me to mind her for two hours every night I’ll be delighted, and I’ll give her a meal.’

‘You really are too kind, Miss Maudsley, and perhaps one day I will be in a position to repay your kindness.’ For the first time, Evelyn acknowledged her daughter. ‘You are a very lucky girl, Amelia, and I’m only agreeing to Miss Maudsley having you each night on the strict understanding that you behave yourself and do exactly as you are told. Do you understand?’

In a tiny voice, devoid of any emotion, she answered, ‘Yes, Mother.’

It was eight o’clock when Evelyn told her daughter it was time for her to go to bed. Amelia didn’t object. She was longing to lie quietly and go over all the things Miss Bessie had said and done, and the way they’d laughed at silly things her mother would only have frowned at. There had never in her life been a goodnight kiss or a hug, so after saying, ‘Goodnight, Mother,’ the girl climbed the stairs. She didn’t run up them, even though she wanted to, for that would have brought a sharp rebuke, and she didn’t want anything to spoil the day. And tonight she didn’t shiver when she slid in between the cold sheets, for she had a hand over her mouth so her mother wouldn’t hear her giggles. It had been so funny when Miss Bessie had told the fireplace to keep quiet and not to interrupt. And then she’d pretended it answered back, and said, ‘Don’t be so flaming cheeky, I won’t tell yer again. Anyone would think yer owned the house, the way yer carry on.’

Downstairs, Evelyn told herself to wait half an hour to give her daughter time to go to sleep. Amelia wasn’t allowed in her bedroom, and although she may have seen the trunk through the open door, had no idea of its contents. That was the way it would stay. The less the child knew about her previous life, the better. She had been told very bluntly that her father had been killed in the war and wasn’t encouraged to ask further questions. What she didn’t know she couldn’t pass on, and that was how Evelyn wanted it. So, while Amelia was reliving every second of the time she’d spent next door, her mother was making plans for a future that would take her back to the good life she had known, and which she longed to regain.

Exactly half an hour after her daughter had gone to bed, Evelyn lit a candle and placed it in the middle of a saucer. Then she made her way quietly up the steep, narrow stairs, lit by the flickering flame. She stood on the landing for a few seconds, her ear to the door of her daughter’s room. Satisfied the child was asleep, she entered her own bedroom and closed the door. Then she put the saucer on the floor near the trunk before taking a large, rusty key from the top drawer of the tallboy. At first she thought she wasn’t going to be able to open the trunk, for over the years the lock had rusted inside too and she couldn’t turn the key in it. It would have been easier if she’d knelt down to do it, and shown a little patience.