When Wishes Come True (60 page)

Bessie snorted. ‘Oh, no, in me home-made dress and me Marcel-waved hair, I’d be the belle of the ruddy ball! And I can’t afford to go out and pay a fortune for another dress, even if the shops were open, which they’re not.’

Milly was pouting, very near to tears. ‘I’m going in the dress you made me, Auntie Bessie, so that’s a home-made dress, and I love it. And I’ll tell everyone that you made it for me, so they’ll all think you are very clever. I bet none of them could make a dress.’

‘That’s different, sweetheart, ’cos you’re family. If you turned up in a sack, they’d still love yer. But I’m not family, yer see.’

Milly folded her arms, her face set. ‘If you don’t go, then I won’t go either, so there!’

‘Don’t start behaving like a baby, Milly,’ Evelyn said. ‘You can’t always have your own way. If Miss Maudsley doesn’t want to come, we can’t make her. I’ll be very disappointed, though, because I’ve told Cyril and Philip so much about her they really do want to meet her.’ She suddenly had a brain wave. ‘It’s a pity, Bessie, because you said you would like to thank the man who gave the donation at Christmas, and if you don’t come with us tomorrow night, you’ll miss the chance of meeting him.’

Bessie chuckled. ‘Nice try, Evelyn, but it won’t work.’

Milly had shuffled to the edge of the couch. ‘Which man is that, Mother, do I know him?’

‘Yes, dear, it’s Uncle Philip, the man I am going to marry.’

Bessie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you having me on, Evelyn, ’cos if yer are, I’ll set the poker on yer. In fact, I won’t bother with the poker, I’ll have a word with the front door and tell it not to let yer in any more.’

Evelyn let her head drop back and laughter filled the room. ‘Oh, if you don’t come, Bessie, you’ll miss out on a lot. Milly’s granddad is like you, he talks to his desk, and the waste-paper basket. You would have so much in common.’

Bessie viewed her through narrowed lids. ‘Is this another try, Evelyn? If it is, yer must be getting desperate, sweetheart, ’cos I could do better meself.’

‘Mother isn’t telling fibs, Auntie Bessie,’ Milly said. ‘She is going to marry Uncle Philip, and Granda does talk to his desk and the waste-paper basket, he told us.’

Bessie stroked her cheek. ‘It’s no use, sweetheart, I’m sure they are the nicest people in the world, but it doesn’t alter the fact I’m not in the same class as them, and I really would be embarrassed. My clothes wouldn’t fit, me accent would go down like a lead balloon, and I’d be dead miserable. You and yer mother go, and have a nice time. You can tell me all about it after. It’ll be a New Year then, nineteen hundred and twenty-six.’

But nothing would move Milly. ‘If you don’t go, then I’m not going. I’ll stay with you.’

Bessie lifted her hands in defeat. ‘Okay, okay! I’ll go with yer and spend the night in the kitchen helping the servants. Are yer satisfied now?’

They were sitting in a taxi on Sunday when Evelyn said, ‘You look very smart, Bessie, I must say. Your hair looks very glamorous.’

‘And so it ruddy well should do!’ she said. ‘I’ve had dinky curlers in all night, and I haven’t slept a flaming wink. I don’t know, the things we women go through. If a burglar had broke into my house last night, he’d have taken one look at me and scarpered hell for leather down the ruddy street. The things we women have to put up with, it’s nothing but flaming torture.’

‘Well, I think you look lovely, Auntie Bessie. Nobody will look as nice as you.’

Bessie was feeling very nervous, and would much rather have been sitting in her little house, with a fire roaring up the chimney, than in a taxi on her way to a house as big as a castle. At least in her own place she could talk to the furniture without feeling embarrassed because it was used to her Liverpool accent. Another thing, this was the first time she’d been in a taxi in her whole life and she felt uncomfortable enough, so how was she going to feel in a house as big as a ruddy castle, with a maid and a housekeeper? She gave a sigh and promised herself she’d find a chair in a corner somewhere and sit out of sight for the night. Or else find the kitchen and give the cook a hand. That would be more up her street than sitting with a group of people who had more money than they knew what to do with.

‘It’s the next house, driver,’ Evelyn said, leaning forward to tap on the glass partition. ‘You can drive straight into the driveway.’

While she was paying the man, Bessie was taking stock of the house and gardens, and felt like either getting back in the taxi and asking the driver to take her home, or taking to her heels and running as fast as she could. This was no place for her, she should never have given in to Milly.

‘Come along,’ Evelyn said, taking Bessie’s elbow, ‘Maisie has the door open.’

Bessie took one look at the uniformed maid and her heart dropped even further as she asked herself what she was doing here. But when the maid smiled as she asked if she could take her coat, Bessie found she could smile back. And she was soon thinking to herself that she’d have a good look around the enormous hall so she could describe everything to Rita and Aggie. She had barely got as far as the winding staircase, with the gilt-framed pictures spaced at intervals on the wall, when by her side she heard a deep voice saying, ‘So, this is the Bessie I’ve heard so much about?’

After nearly jumping out of her skin with fright, she turned her head to see a man who appeared to be about the same age as herself. He was holding out his hand. ‘I’m Cyril Lister-Sinclair, Milly’s grandfather, and she’s told me so much about you, I feel I know you.’

Bessie looked at the outstretched hand, then at the smiling, kindly face, and her hand went to join his. ‘I’m pleased to meet yer, er, sir,’ she said, pumping his hand enthusiastically. ‘But Milly exaggerates something terrible, so don’t believe everything she tells yer.’

Cyril saw before him a woman who was small and thin, with a face as honest as the day is long and eyes full of humour. ‘Ah, yes, I can well imagine my granddaughter has a very vivid imagination, but I don’t believe she exaggerates her feelings for you. She tells me you are her bestest friend, and I find myself a little jealous of you. I’m hoping in the near future to become another of her bestest friends.’

Bessie looked around for Evelyn and Milly, but they had disappeared. She was alone in the hall with this man she found she was at ease with. ‘Oh, Milly is your friend already, she has told me so. You are very lucky, she’s a child anyone would be proud of. Clever, caring, loving and with a sense of humour. She’s also a very pretty girl, and I have to admit I love the bones of her.’

‘Here you are, old boy,’ a man’s voice boomed, ‘Evelyn said I would find you here.’

‘Ah, Philip, may I introduce you to Miss Bessie? She is a neighbour and friend of Evelyn and Milly’s.’ Cyril made the introductions, and Bessie weighed Philip up as they shook hands. ‘You are one of the reasons I came tonight, Mr Philip, ’cos I wanted to thank yer for being so kind. There are a lot of people in our street who would like to thank yer as well, so I’ll do it for them.’

Cyril frowned. ‘What is this about, Philip? I didn’t know you knew Miss Maudsley?

‘I have never met the dear lady until this minute, Cyril, but I know a lot about her. And when the chance comes, I would like to have a private conversation with her.’

‘This is all very mysterious,’ Cyril said. ‘Would I be allowed to sit in on this conversation? I am now very intrigued.’

The sound of childish laughter had three pairs of eyes turning towards the sound. They saw Milly pulling on her grandmother’s arm, her face creased in laughter. ‘Come on, Grandma, here she is. This is my Auntie Bessie.’

Cyril couldn’t believe his eyes. His wife looked twenty years younger as she laughed while being pulled towards the group. ‘Auntie Bessie, this is my grandma and I’ve told her all about you.’

Without a word being exchanged, Cyril and Philip stepped back. Both men were interested in how this meeting would go, for it could affect their own lives. Matilda was smiling when she stopped in front of Bessie. ‘My granddaughter has never stopped talking about you. You have certainly made an impression on her.’

Milly dropped her grandmother’s hand and reached for Bessie’s. ‘She’s my bestest friend in the whole world, Grandma, and I do love her.’ She gazed up at Bessie, her green eyes shining. ‘Aren’t you my bestest friend, Auntie Bessie, and don’t you love the bones of me?’

There was no need to say it, for it was plain to those watching that Bessie adored the girl, but she confirmed it by saying, ‘Yes, sweetheart, ye’re me bestest mate, and I love the bones of yer.’

‘I was telling Milly how much I liked her dress, it is so pretty,’ Matilda said. ‘And she tells me you made it for her. Is this true?’

Bessie didn’t know how to address these people, so decided to use no names. ‘Yes, that is my job, I’m a seamstress by trade.’

‘That is wonderful! Did you hear that, Cyril, Bessie is a seamstress. I have said for years we should employ a seamstress, it would be so useful.’

‘I’m sure Bessie is already gainfully employed, my dear.’ But while he was speaking an idea was forming in Cyril’s head. Part of the idea had been there since he’d first known of Milly’s love for this woman, and now his wife had given him a way of taking it further. ‘Don’t you think you should go back to the drawing room, my dear, and take Milly with you? Evelyn and our guests will think it rude of us to both to disappear. Philip and I will be with you shortly, but we both wish to have a word with Bessie.’

‘My husband is right, I should get back to our guests.’ Matilda was not usually a demonstrative person but, wonder of wonders, she put her hand on Bessie’s arm and squeezed it. ‘We will talk later. My granddaughter said we should be friends, and I would like that very much.’

Milly escaped from her grandmother’s hand and put her arms around Bessie’s waist. ‘Aren’t you glad you came now, Auntie Bessie? I told you they would love you.’

Bessie smiled and stroked her hair. ‘Yes, I’m glad I came, sweetheart, but you run along with your grandma now, and I’ll see you soon.’

‘Can I have a kiss first, please, ’cos you haven’t given me one today. And then I’ll be a good girl and go with Grandma.’ When Bessie bent down to kiss her, the girl’s arms went around her neck, and those watching could hear her say, ‘I do love you, Auntie Bessie.’

Bessie smiled. ‘I know yer do, ’cos yer told the shovel, and the shovel told me.’

Milly put her hands on her hips and feigned indignation. ‘I’m going to tell that shovel off when I see it, it had no right to tell tales.’

Bessie pushed her towards Matilda, who was watching with great interest. ‘You go with yer grandma now, I’ll see yer in a bit.’

Cyril turned to Philip. ‘I wish to talk to Bessie. Would you like to join us, or would you prefer to join our guests?’

‘I’ll tag along with you, if you have no objection?’ Philip winked at Bessie. ‘I can’t leave you and Bessie alone in the study, what would people think!’

The two men took an arm each, and led her in the direction of Cyril’s study. When they reached the door, she burst out laughing. ‘Two male escorts no less. Wait until I tell me mates, they won’t believe me. I know what one of them will say. “Oh, aye, two bleeding coppers taking yer in for being drunk.”’

Both men roared with laughter. And although they couldn’t read each other’s mind, they were both thinking it wasn’t hard to like this little lady. ‘Oh, are you known for getting drunk and being escorted by policemen to the nearest police station?’ Philip asked.

‘Oh, yes, every Saturday night without fail. I have me usual six bottles of milk stout, then the landlord throws me out for being drunk, and I sit in the gutter singing me head off until the local bobbies take me to sleep it off in a cell in the police station.’

Cyril looked at Philip and opened the study door. ‘We’ve got quite a character here, my boy, I think we will have to go easy on the brandy and port. There are no gutters around here, and the nearest police station is a mile away.’

Philip winked. ‘I will take responsibility, old boy, I’ll keep my eye on her all night.’

‘Which eye will that be, sir, so I can dodge it?’ Bessie was beginning to enjoy herself. Okay, so they were rolling in money while she was as poor as a church mouse, but that didn’t make them any different. And these two seemed happy enough, they were laughing their heads off.

Cyril pointed to a comfortable leather chair. ‘Make yourself at home, my dear. What I have to say is very important to me, my wife and Milly.’

Philip stood up. ‘Would you prefer I joined the other guests then, Cyril? I don’t want to intrude.’

‘No, you stay, dear boy. This matter concerns Evelyn, and as her husband to be, it also concerns you. I will try to make it as brief as possible, or if we’re not back with our guests when the bell goes for dinner, my dear wife will not be too happy.’ He waited until Philip had seated himself, then looked across the desk at Bessie. ‘I believe Evelyn has told you most of the story, up to last week when she and Milly came back into our lives, so I won’t go over that ground again. What I have to say concerns you, and my granddaughter. While Milly appears pleased to have us in her life, to be part of a family, and seems fond of my wife and myself, it is you she loves. She talks of you constantly, you are her bestest friend and she loves you. Of course I would like her to love my wife and me too, but I am not stupid enough to think love is something immediate, that you can take for granted. You have to work at love, to earn it.’

‘Oh, Milly will come to love you in time,’ Bessie said. ‘She is a lovable child, with a heart full of love to give. It just takes time, Mr … er … Mr Cyril.’ Bessie shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I’m at a loss as to what to call yer. But don’t worry about Milly, she’ll come to love yer, I know she will.’

Cyril lifted a pencil from a stand on his desk and started to scribble on a large blotting pad. ‘I’ve asked Milly to come and live with Matilda and me while Evelyn and Philip begin married life together. We want her so much, for after all, she is the daughter of our beloved son. But Milly was quite definite that it was you she wanted to live with, and I would never force her against her will. I want her to love me, not hate me. So I wondered if you would consider the post of nanny to her?’