Hope at Holly Cottage (20 page)

‘I were deeply in love. Much like you was. Farmer’s son, ’e were. Good, ’ard worker. ’Ad our lives all planned out, us did. Take over the farm eventually, that were the plan. Us was so ’appy. Still got the engagement ring, I ’as. Cheap, worthless thing, but it meant the world to me. An’ then the war came along.’

Her dreamy, reminiscing tone suddenly hardened and her lips twisted with bitterness. Anna lifted her eyes to this dear woman who had become like a mother to her. Queenie was gazing ahead, her face set, and Anna judged it best not to interrupt.

‘Lord Kitchener needs you,’ Queenie’s voice crackled with contempt. ‘Didn’t ’ave to go, Clive didn’t, especially being a farmer. But ’e wanted to do ’is bit. No white feathers for ’en. Be an adventure, ’e says, ’is eyes shining. An’ it’ll be over by Christmas,’ she scoffed acidly in a way Anna would never have believed of her. ‘Well, it were for ’en. One o’ the first
to fall. An’ by the time ’is parents got the telegram, I knew I was ’aving ’is babby.’

Anna audibly gasped. She hadn’t meant to, but it was the last thing she had expected. Not from Queenie, who always seemed so practical and in control.

‘With ’er going away, us’d got carried away a few times,’ Queenie went on. ‘’Oo could blame us, really, like? But back then, it were a terrible thing. Well, you knows yersel’, cheel, ’ow things can be for you ’aving Charlie out of wedlock. But then, it were even worse, believe me. A sin. I couldn’t bring that shame on my family. So I went away. Said I wanted to do my bit, an’ all. An’ I did. In a munitions factory. Only I stopped to ’ave the child. A little girl. I called ’er Charlotte, though I doesn’t know if the couple what adopted ’er kept the name. I never knew where she went, but I expect it were to a good family. All I knows is that she be out there. Somewheres …’

She broke off in a trail of sadness, leaving only the dark, shadowy stillness of the night. Anna sat, not daring to move. Hardly daring to breathe. Only her heart tearing in two as she shared Queenie’s crushing grief.

‘And … that’s why you wanted me to keep Charlie,’ she croaked when a good minute had passed.

‘Yes, cheel.’ Queenie sounded more resolute now. ‘I didn’t want you to face the same regret as I always ’ave. It were the biggest mistake o’ my life. Came back yere arter the war, I did, an’ no one knew no different. But I knew that out there, somewhere, were a little girl … She’d be in ’er forties now, of course. P’r’aps wi’ chiller of ’er own. So, when you turned up, cheel, it were like God ’ad given me a second chance.’

‘Oh, Queenie.’ Anna released her sigh through gently
pursed lips, her insides choked with emotion. ‘I can’t imagine … But, thank you. For everything.’

She got out of the chair now and went to give Queenie a huge hug, patting the elderly woman on the back. So much sorrow. But then she felt Queenie pushing her away.

‘Give over, cheel. It’s all in the past. What matters now is you an’ little Charlie. An’ if us doesn’t get to bed soon, us’ll be all yonderly tomorrow.’

‘Yes, you’re right. Goodnight, then, Queenie. And thanks again for babysitting.’

She left Queenie nodding and went off to her room, closing the door softly. Dear Queenie. But who’d have thought …? She changed and slid silently into bed, mulling over Queenie’s story as she drifted asleep.

‘Spoke to Gladys, today, I did, while you was out. Finally off at the end o’ next week. Miss those three old biddies, I will. Been Queenie’s neighbours since … well, I cas’n remember a time when they wasn’t there. Three unmarried sisters, eh … Albert used to tease us that they was three witches, cuz they was old even then. But three nicer women you cas’n meet.’

Anna cocked an eyebrow in Queenie’s direction. Charlie had been having his afternoon nap while she had battled her way to Princetown through the January snow to do the shopping. Now Charlie was full of beans, sitting on the rag rug spread at their feet and playing with the few toys they could afford for him. Anna had bought him a wooden train for his first birthday the previous week, and he was crawling along the edge of the rug and pushing the little engine on the flagstones next to it.

‘Yes, I’ll miss them, too,’ Anna agreed. The three elderly
sisters who lived in the big old house almost next to Holly Cottage had always been kind to her. If they had been a touch sceptical over the story that she was Queenie’s long-lost niece, widowed and left with a baby to bring up alone, their qualms had soon been dissipated. They had taken Anna on face value, always friendly, and doted on Charlie like old maiden aunts. Unlike Olive’s husband, who always lifted his nose in the air and turned his back whenever he saw her.

‘Still, you can’t blame them for wanting to move somewhere more convenient. And that old house is so big and draughty, and the new one’s got all mod cons. It’ll be much easier for them, and they are getting on a bit.’

She threw Queenie a questioning glance. The Crow sisters were a lot older than she was, but it was obvious that Queenie was finding her hard-working life at Holly Cottage increasingly taxing. Anna sometimes wondered how Queenie would manage without her help. And at least Crow House had had running water inside the kitchen and a flushing indoor lavatory – luxury far beyond the primitive facilities that served Holly Cottage. But before Queenie could reply, Charlie crawled over to his mother, hauled himself into a standing position using Anna’s knees for support, and was now gleefully bobbing up and down as he bent and stretched his legs in this wonderful new game he had discovered for himself.

‘Well, I reckons it takes all folk different, like,’ Queenie pronounced from her chair. ‘But I cas’n imagine living anywheres else. ’Ave to carry me out feet first in a box, they will, from yere. Born in ’Olly Cottage, Queenie were, an’ she’ll die in it, too.’

A sudden, dark cloud threatened Anna’s buoyant mood. She loved Queenie almost as much as she had her own dear
mother, but she could envisage a time when Queenie would find living at Holly Cottage beyond her. But Queenie could be as obstinate as the proverbial mule, and getting her to leave her beloved home and move into more suitable accommodation as the Crow sisters were doing might be nigh on impossible. But hopefully that would be way, way in the future.

‘Oh!’ Anna gasped, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. ‘Oh, Queenie, did you see that?’

Bouncing up and down in front of her, Charlie had relinquished the support of her knees, and tottered half a dozen steps across the rag rug, chubby hands held up before him, before sitting down hard on his bottom.

‘I certainly did!’ Queenie exclaimed, her cheeks creasing as she grinned proudly from ear to ear.

Charlie swivelled his head round to stare back at his mother in comic astonishment at his own actions, and then he broke into a beaming smile. Anna’s stunned eyes went from his delighted little face to Queenie’s joyful, wrinkled one, and back again. She felt her own heart ready to burst with elation, wiping out her misgivings of a moment earlier. For Charlie had taken his first steps.

Dear Annie

I cas’n tell you how happy I am. At long last Bert’s finished his National Service and he’s coming home for good. I feel I could burst, I’m so happy, like. Only one more week and he’ll be here. I cas’n believe it.

Anna’s lips curved into a smile as she paused to take another bite of the toast she had cooked by spearing it onto the toasting fork and holding it in front of the open firebox.
She didn’t envy Carrie her brand-new electric toaster. Being in the trade, Jeffery was able to purchase electrical equipment at cost price, Mr Trembath being very generous to his electrician who could always be relied upon to do a good job. The Cresswell home possessed a radio, a television and even one of the new plug-in record players. Anna didn’t mind not having any of these, though she always enjoyed listening to music when she took Charlie down to Tavistock on the bus to spend a day with Carrie and baby Polly. If it wasn’t nice enough to sit in the garden in the summer, or to wrap up warm and go to feed the ducks along the old Tavistock Canal, they would enjoy themselves in the sitting room, hopping around to the beat of Tommy Steele’s
Singing the Blues
or some such hit. The one thing Anna really envied was Carrie’s Mark One washing machine. It was old by modern standards and still only had a hand-worked mangle, but it would be a lot easier than scrubbing Charlie’s nappies on the wooden washboard and scraping her knuckles raw!

Bert’s going to buy us a proper engagement ring, he says. Imagine that, Annie! My mum never had no ring. Dad couldn’t afford it, but Bert’s been saving up. Seen a lovely one in the pawnshop window, I has. I hopes it’s still there when Bert comes back, coz I really likes it. Dad reckons Bert’ll get his job back on the railway, and then maybies us can get one of those mortgage things and start to buy our own place instead of renting. Fancy that, eh! But us’ll have to save a lot more for the deposit, so us’ll have to wait longer afore us can tie the knot. But it’ll just be great to have Bert back home.

‘What she say then, young Ethel?’ Queenie interrupted Anna’s reading of the letter that had arrived in the post that morning.

Anna gave a knowing chuckle. ‘Oh, she’s full of Bert coming home as you might imagine.’ She put down the sheet of paper and picked up the cloth to wipe Charlie’s hand. He was sitting in his high chair, again bought second hand and transported to Holly Cottage balanced on the pushchair. The toddler was learning to feed himself with a spoon and was ladling mixed-up Farex into his mouth with dubious success.

‘Lovely time o’ year for an ’omecoming, mind, the spring,’ Queenie nodded sagely. ‘So what else does she say?’

‘Oh.’ Anna took up the letter again and scanned Ethel’s scrawl. ‘She says she’ll drop me a line after Bert arrives and she knows what they’re doing. She’ll probably take some of her holiday, and either they’ll come up here or we can go down there for a party, maybe. You’d come, too, wouldn’t you, Queenie? Oh, Charlie! No!’

Anna sprang up, her arms thrust towards her son. But she was already too late. Charlie had lifted up his bowl and tipped its contents over his head, laughing uproariously as the gooey mixture oozed through his hair and began to dribble down his face.

‘Oh, Charlie, you mustn’t do that! You naughty boy!’ Anna chided, but Charlie was beaming gleefully at her, his little cheeks pink with delight. Anna whisked away the bowl before he could create even more chaos with it, and glanced round in desperation for the cloth. And then amongst all the pandemonium, a sudden urgent hammering broke out as if somebody was about to break down the front door.

‘’Oo can that be?’ Queenie pulled in her chin with an irritated frown. ‘I’ll go, maid.’

She covered the few steps to the front door while Anna attempted to clear up the mess. She didn’t really care who
their visitor might be. She was cross with Charlie, but she supposed in his own mind, he was just playing. He was too young to understand an explanation, so she must be firm but not too angry in showing him her displeasure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Queenie had come back into the room, her stance and the tilt of her head somehow indicating that something was amiss. Anna’s thoughts at once turned to Ethel and her heart leapt into her throat. Surely nothing had happened to Bert at the very end of his stint? But, lingering indecisively in the doorway, was neither Ethel nor the telegram boy, but a small, waiflike figure with wild blond curls looking windswept and out of place above an immaculate scarlet coat with a silver-fur collar.

‘Frankie! What on earth—?’

She got no further as Frankie’s face crumpled and she hurtled across the room and flung herself into Anna’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Anna was flabbergasted and tried to pat Frankie’s back without soiling the smart coat with Farex. She was quite at a loss, and then Charlie started to protest at this invasion of his morning routine and was instantly howling loudly. To Anna’s relief, Queenie came to the rescue, whisking the child out of his high chair and pacifying him on her lap.

Anna nodded her thanks and then turned her attention to Frankie. The other girl was crying wretchedly, clinging onto Anna as if her life depended on it. Over her head, Anna shrugged bewilderedly at Queenie’s raised, questioning eyebrows.

‘There, there,’ she soothed just as she did with Charlie whenever he fell over and hurt himself. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ she asked for the third time in an effort to get some sense out of her.

She soon had her answer. Frankie finally drew away and stared at her, sniffing, from her tear-stained face. A great, livid mark stood out on her cheek in a clear handprint, bright crimson but already with a bluish tinge in the centre. And beneath the bobbing curls on her forehead was the purplish-yellow fading blossom of an earlier bruise.

‘Oh, Anna, I’m sorry,’ the poor girl gulped, her eyes still swimming with moisture. ‘You were the only person I could turn to. I don’t know how much longer …’

She looked in danger of bursting into tears again, and Anna nodded towards the table. ‘You sit down there and have a cup of tea, and then you can tell me all about it.’

Frankie obeyed meekly, swallowing down her threatening tears. But she seemed a little calmer, and as Anna filled a mug from the pot and pushed it in her direction, she considered that introductions might help settle her friend down.

‘Frankie, this is Queenie.’

The two strangers acknowledged each other with a bob of the head, and Frankie’s inbred manners came to her aid. ‘Yes, I gathered you must be,’ she said, more steadily now. ‘I’m pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise,’ Queenie answered reservedly, not quite sure how to take this young girl who had landed on her doorstep from a different planet, or so it seemed to Queenie, from her posh clothes and the cultured way she spoke. And yet the cheel was in such distress. She was almost glad when Charlie started grizzling again and she had to jiggle him up and down on her knee once more.

‘I know I said I’d never come here,’ Frankie croaked, her voice strained as she battled with the last remnants of her tears. ‘But I didn’t know what else to do. I just had to get
away.’ For a moment, she seemed to be verging on the edge of hysteria again, but with a huge sigh, made an evident effort to retain a grip on herself. ‘I didn’t take the car, though, so no one should have any idea where I am. I just said I was going for a walk. It was all quite calm, really. It wasn’t until I got to the end of the drive that it all burst out of me. I just started walking towards Two Bridges and then I thought of you, and I just kept walking. I didn’t realise how far it is, though. I think I’ve got a blister.’

‘I’ll get you a plaster. An’ summat for … for …’ Queenie waved vaguely at Frankie’s face as she set Charlie down on the rag rug, where thankfully he began to play with his toys like his normal happy self.

‘Gilbert, I assume?’ Anna suggested quietly as Queenie rummaged in one of her cupboards.

‘Who else?’ Frankie answered, the sarcasm of her words not reflected in her flat, expressionless tone. ‘He’s still blaming me for not being pregnant after nearly two years of marriage. He seems obsessed by it, and sometimes I do feel guilty. Especially when he … gets into one of his moods about it.’

‘And hits you, you mean?’

Frankie glanced up darkly. ‘Yes. But at least he’s still gentle and loving when … when we’re in bed. He does still love me, I’m sure of that.’

‘Well, ’e do ’ave a funny way o’ showing it,’ Queenie put in.

‘Oh, no. You don’t understand. It’s just this overwhelming desire for a child that gets to him sometimes and makes him violent. And usually when he’s had too much to drink.’

‘But not at this hour of the morning, I take it?’ This said contemplating the fresh mark on Frankie’s cheek.

‘A hangover,’ Frankie replied wryly. ‘That’s why I was able to slip out.’

‘And Lady Ashcroft? Does she know?’

‘I’m sure she must do. But she turns a blind eye. And I’ve heard her having a go at Gilbert for not producing an heir. She seems driven by it, too. As if it’s, I don’t know, almost a sin that nothing’s happened yet.’

‘Huh! Queer folk, gentry, like,’ Queenie muttered as she handed Frankie a plaster and placed a bottle of witch hazel on the table.

‘So, what are you going to do about it?’

Anna’s voice was firm, for surely Frankie wasn’t going to sit back and take it on the chin? But the girl turned to her, eyes wide with surprise.

‘Do? What
can
I do?’

Anna almost felt like shaking Frankie herself! But then … Frankie was different. Gentle. Stoical. Accepting. Even if it meant she suffered as a result.

‘You could stand up to them.
Both
of them. Tell Lady Ashcroft to mind her own flipping business. Well, not in so many words. But better still, tell her – really sort of confidentially – that you’re upset yourself that you’ve not had a baby yet. But make sure
you
start the conversation, as if you really want to talk about it. And as for Gilbert, tell him if he doesn’t stop knocking you about, you’ll leave him.’

Frankie gasped and stared at her, totally aghast. ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly do that! Think of the scandal! My father would turn in his grave!’

‘Well, forgive me, Frankie, but your father’s dead and you’re the one suffering the abuse. And while you’re at it,
tell them both that you want to be seen by Lady Ashcroft’s own doctor. I’m sure she must have one. Or some specialist in Harley Street, isn’t it? It’ll really show her you’re worried about not having had a child, and it’ll stop Gilbert hurting you. He won’t want some eminent physician asking questions about how you get your bruises.’