When Wishes Come True (25 page)

However, the banging of the taxi door, and the noise of the engine, had been heard by Evelyn’s next door neighbour. Bessie hadn’t been able to drop off to sleep, had spent hours tossing and turning. The reason for this unrest was her neighbour, and the manner in which she treated her daughter. Also, Bessie hadn’t believed the tale Evelyn had told her about visiting an old friend she hadn’t seen since school days. The words didn’t ring true. And while Bessie didn’t care what her neighbour got up to, she worried it might in some way affect Amelia.

So the slamming of the car door, in the silence of the night, was enough to take Bessie from her bed to the window. The gas lamp in the street didn’t throw out much light, but it was enough for Bessie to catch a glimpse of Mrs Sinclair, and that short glimpse was sufficient to make her gasp in surprise and wonder. She thought she was seeing things at first, but the few seconds her neighbour spent fiddling to get her key in were enough to tell her her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. She’d never seen anyone dressed like that before, not in her whole life. The sight certainly confirmed the doubts Bessie had about Evelyn visiting an old school friend. The woman looked as though she’d been to a fancy dress ball, or, more likely, been spending time with a rich fancy man.

Bessie went back to her bed and sat on the side of it. She shook her head, not knowing what to think about the whole setup. It should be interesting tomorrow when her neighbour came to pick up Amelia. Whatever she said would be a pack of lies, for she was good at that. Still, it would be interesting.

She slipped between the sheets and lay on her back staring up at the ceiling. She wouldn’t say anything to Amelia’s mother about seeing her coming home at half-past four in the morning in a taxi. No, she’d act daft and ask Evelyn if she’d enjoyed visiting her old school chum. Pretend to be interested, like. The answer she got would be a web of deceit and lies, but it wouldn’t be dull and she’d have a good laugh afterwards. And they did say that if you gave a liar enough rope, they would hang themselves. Not that Bessie wished that on the woman. God forbid, she was still Amelia’s mother.

Telling herself there was no point lying there wondering what was going on when she would be told tomorrow exactly as much as Evelyn Sinclair wanted her to know, Bessie snuggled down and made a determined effort to go to sleep. Her last conscious thought, as she pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, was that the stuck-up so-and-so wasn’t worth losing sleep over. And very soon after that, the room was filled with the sound of her even, gentle snoring.

In the next bedroom Amelia lay dreaming with her rag doll pressed close to her chest, the one thing the child had ever been able to call her very own.

It was eleven o’clock when Evelyn walked up Bessie’s back yard. Amelia, who was sitting on the couch with the doll on her knee, heard the latch clicking back into place, and a look of fear came over her face. ‘Don’t let Mother see Daisy, Auntie Bessie, or she’ll take her off me.’

‘Run upstairs, sweetheart, and we’ll keep her a secret.’ Bessie stood at the bottom of the stairs until she heard the girl reach the landing, then put a smile on her face and went to open the kitchen door. ‘Oh, hello, Mrs Sinclair, I wasn’t expecting yer until about twelve o’clock, I thought yer’d be enjoying a lie-in.’ She stood aside to let Evelyn pass and told herself to be as polished as her neighbour. ‘Amelia is upstairs, she won’t be a minute. Sit yerself down while ye’re waiting and tell me how the visit to yer old school friend went. Did yer enjoy catching up on old times?’

‘Oh, yes, it was lovely, talking about all the girls in our class, and wondering what paths their lives have taken. Elizabeth has seen a couple of them over the years, and tells me they married well and have good lives.’

‘That’s nice for yer, I’m glad yer enjoyed yerself.’ Bessie was waiting to see if Amelia’s mother would ask how her daughter’s party had gone. Surely she wouldn’t let it pass without a word? But so far, nothing! ‘Would yer like a cup of tea? It won’t take me a minute, and Amelia can have one before she leaves.’

‘I would love one, thank you so much.’ Evelyn laced her fingers together when Bessie went out to the kitchen. How was she going to ask to borrow some money for food? What excuse could she use? Telling her about the five-pound note was out of the question because people in Miss Maudsley’s position had probably never set eyes on one in their lives. And Evelyn needed some money, even if it was only a shilling, for there was no food in the house and she was starving. Nor did she have any coal to light a fire, and the house was freezing.

Amelia came down the stairs and stood sedately in front of her mother. ‘Hello, Mother, did you have a nice time with your friend?’

‘Yes, I did. Have you behaved yourself for Miss Maudsley?’

Waiting in the kitchen for the kettle to boil, Bessie could feel herself getting mad. Couldn’t the woman ask her daughter if she’d had a nice party, instead of asking if she’d behaved herself? Was she so selfish she’d never given a thought to whether her daughter enjoyed her birthday? The kettle started to whistle and Bessie poured the boiling water into the dark brown teapot. Then she walked to stand in the kitchen doorway. ‘I’ll let it brew for a few minutes, I can’t stand weak tea.’ She watched as Evelyn put a hand in the pocket of her coat, shook her head, then put a hand in her other pocket. ‘Have you lost something, Mrs Sinclair?’

Evelyn’s acting was perfect. With a look of panic on her face, she tried each of her pockets again. ‘Oh, dear, I had two shillings in my pocket when I was on the tram last night, now I don’t seem to have them. I must have dropped them getting off and didn’t hear them fall.’

Bessie felt like applauding. If she didn’t know the woman better, she would have believed what she was being told. Dropped them on the tram indeed? What a ruddy liar! But she’d go along with her neighbour, just for the hell of it. ‘Oh, dear, that’s a shame. It’s a lot of money to lose.’

‘It’s worse than you think, Miss Maudsley, for I intended to send Amelia to the corner shop for a bag of coal and some food. There’s nothing in the house for our dinner.’ Evelyn wrung her hands. ‘Oh, dear, what am I going to do?’

Bessie was watching Amelia’s face and it spoke volumes. She showed no emotion at all. It was as if she wasn’t involved and had no worry that there wasn’t going to be any dinner. This told Bessie that the child was used to her mother telling lies, and felt no pity for her. And, the little woman asked herself, why should the child pity someone who never touched her, kissed her, or told her she loved her?

It was for Amelia’s sake that Bessie said, ‘I can lend yer a couple of bob, but I would have to have it back before the rent man comes. I don’t miss my rent money for anyone.’

‘I will give it back to you tomorrow, definitely.’ There was relief in Evelyn’s voice, she didn’t like having hunger pains. Anyway, her life would be changing for the better very soon and then she wouldn’t have to cadge off this insignificant little woman. ‘You are very kind and I promise to repay you when I call for Amelia tomorrow night.’

‘She can stay here for a few hours, if yer like,’ Bessie said, noting the happiness she’d seen in the girl’s eyes all morning had now turned to sadness. ‘It would give yer a chance to put yer feet up for a while.’

‘No, I need her to go to the corner shop for bread and whatever meats they have. And a bag of coal.’ And while Evelyn stood waiting for Bessie to get the two silver shillings out of her purse, she silently added, that her daughter could also light the fire and wash any dirty dishes. For in the new life she intended for herself, she couldn’t be seen with broken, dirty fingernails. She’d have to be perfectly groomed at all times if she was to regain the luxurious lifestyle she’d once had.

As Evelyn held her hand out for the money Bessie was passing to her, she caught sight of her daughter out of the corner of her eye. And for a second she was brought down to earth. But it was only for a second, because she had no intention of letting Amelia stand in her way. How she was going to get around that she didn’t know, but she would do it. For to tell Philip now that she had an eight-year-old daughter would be to say goodbye to all her dreams.

Evelyn wasn’t a bit shy about meeting Philip in the office on Monday morning. Nor was she embarrassed, for she felt there was nothing to be embarrassed about. She wasn’t a child, at twenty-nine years of age, and they hadn’t done anything improper, though she wasn’t stupid enough to think it would always be so. The prospect didn’t worry her, she was willing to do anything to get what she wanted. Although she was a little concerned about her inexperience in love making. There was only ever the once with Charles, and that was in the confined space of his car. She couldn’t remember much about the actual deed, except the slight discomfort at first. This wasn’t the case for Charles, though, for the moans and sighs coming from him had told her he was finding great pleasure in the act. She, on the other hand, was left unmoved.

She was going through the large three-drawer filing cabinet, making sure the correspondence was correctly filed and familiarising herself with the names of clients, when the office door opened and Philip breezed in with a huge smile on his face. ‘Good morning,’ he said, then closed the office door before adding, ‘my lovely.’

‘Good morning, Mr Philip.’ Evelyn wagged a finger at him. ‘Please be careful, anyone could walk in.’

He was grinning as he hung his coat on the ornately carved coat stand. ‘There is no one to walk in, my darling. I could hear James dictating to Miss Coombes, and the young lady taken on in your place, Grace Carr, is now making us a pot of tea. And I did tell her that she must never enter either office without knocking.’ He walked over to where she stood, kissed her cheek, then sat in his swivel chair. ‘Are there any letters awaiting a reply?’

‘The post has arrived, but I left it for Miss Carr to sort out. That was one of my duties and I thought it should be left with her. If it pleases you, I will go and collect it from her.’

Philip shook her head. ‘It pleases me that you stay here, where I can feast my eyes on you. We can deal with the post later.’ He crossed his legs and raised his brows. ‘You obviously arrived home safely on Sunday morning, so I won’t bore you by asking. What I am interested in is, did you enjoy your time in my company? Did I pass the test?’

Evelyn was leaning her elbows on the cabinet, and smiling up at him. ‘Did you really think there was any chance of not passing the test?’

‘You are a woman of mystery, my love, so I am not taking anything for granted.’

Evelyn glanced towards the door. ‘Please can we keep to “Mrs Sinclair” while we are in the office, Philip? If they knew of our relationship I would feel quite embarrassed and it would sour our friendship.’ The words were barely out of her mouth before there came a tapping on the door. ‘This will be Miss Carr.’

Philip jumped to his feet to open the door. ‘Ah, refreshment. There’s nothing better than a cup of tea to charge the brain cells. Leave the tray on my desk, Miss Carr, Mrs Sinclair will bring it out when we’re ready.’

As soon as the door closed, Evelyn said, ‘That’s very high-handed of you, Philip! We only ever have one cup of tea first thing in the morning, not a pot full. If Mr Woodward receives the same treatment, he’s in for a shock. He may not like changes being made without his consent.’

‘James Woodward is the least of my worries at the moment,’ Philip said. ‘My main concern is that I am your first priority in this office. Anything that goes amiss outside these four walls, I will deal with. Inside them I want your undivided attention. So now, woman, I want you to pamper me by pouring out the tea.’

Evelyn knew he wasn’t being serious, but she intended to show him she wasn’t going to be an easy catch. He appeared to get everything he wanted in life very easily, and she decided he would appreciate her more if he had to do some running. ‘I’m going to collect the post from Miss Carr, so perhaps
you’ll
be good enough to pour the tea while I’m away. There is work to be done, Mr Philip, we need to earn our wages.’

‘Have your cup of tea first, the post will wait for ten minutes.’

But Evelyn was already opening the door. ‘I can drink it while I’m opening the post, to save time.’

Philip was more subdued for the rest of the morning. As Evelyn opened the letters and passed them across the desk to him, he read each one carefully, making a mental note of its contents before setting it aside ready to dictate a reply. Neither of them spoke again until all the envelopes had been opened and the letters stacked in front of Philip. Then he said. ‘You are a slave driver, Mrs Sinclair.’

She shook her head. ‘As you know, Mr Philip, I’m not particularly quick at taking dictation, and a couple of those letters are urgent and need to be in the lunchtime post.’ She gave him the benefit of her coy smile. ‘Besides, I thought if we got through the post quickly, it would give us more time to talk.’

‘When you look at me like that, I will forgive you anything. Now, I believe there are four letters that need to be answered right away, so if you will get your pencil and pad, I will start to dictate. And I will speak slowly and clearly, so you can keep up.’

Evelyn left her chair to pick up the tray. ‘I’ll take this out and ask Miss Carr if she will be kind enough to make us two more cups of tea. Once we’re refreshed, we will sail through those four letters – I hope! My typing isn’t much better than my shorthand, and it will take me all my time to have the letters ready for the noon post.’

‘Don’t upset yourself if they are not ready for the lunchtime post, my love. If they’re posted by five o’clock they will still arrive by tomorrow’s first delivery.’

‘Let us stick to the routine of the office, Mr Philip, at least until my speed has improved. I’m afraid that any diversion from that would be put down to my inexperience. The last thing I want is an irate client storming into the office complaining he has not received a reply to his letter. It is I who would have to shoulder the blame, not you. Miss Saunders ran this office like clockwork for your Uncle Simon, I want to do no less for you.’