The children left behind, p.21
The Children Left Behind, page 21
‘Alice. This is exciting for you, isn’t it?’ Miss Maguire swept into the room. ‘London.’ Her words were laced with bitterness, like little darts.
Alice shook her head. ‘. . . I’m afraid I’m busy.’
Miss Maguire’s eyes widened.
Alice opened her mouth to say more, but nothing came out.
‘Alice has family commitments,’ said Mr Morley quickly. ‘And that’s how it should be. Alice, you have explained it to me – you don’t need to go through it again. There will be a next time, and hopefully then you will be able to come. You’re an asset to this company. Isn’t she, Miss Maguire?’
Miss Maguire blinked, then gave a brisk nod. ‘Of course.’
‘Probably a boy,’ she remarked to Morley a minute later, when Alice had left the room. ‘Family commitments? You didn’t really believe her, did you? It’s always a boy. Girls like Alice always have such plans, such ambitions. But the moment a boy comes on the scene waving an engagement ring, promising a sticky bun at Cooper’s and a weekend on the dodgems in New Brighton, all those lofty dreams come crashing down around them.’
‘Really?’ he asked. ‘And how did you manage to escape the allure of a weekend at the Tower Ballroom, Miss Maguire?’
He regretted the words as soon as he said them – they sounded unkind. But she didn’t seem the least bit troubled.
‘I was made of stronger stuff,’ she replied. ‘Character. Backbone. It’s what’s missing in the youth of today.’
Mr Morley half smiled. He didn’t agree with her. He knew Alice had those qualities in abundance. And he had every confidence that she could be persuaded to change her mind about London.
Chapter 28
Two weeks passed. Matty took Alice to Sefton Park to see children floating boats across the pond, and they kissed under the monkey tree; there was a trip to Lyons’ Corner House, where they gazed into one another’s eyes over an Ovaltine, and a walk holding hands around the gardens at the back of St George’s Hall. When she wasn’t with him she kept going over him in her head: the spread of his hair when the wind was in his face as he walked up the hill; the feel of his hand resting on the curve of her waist; his clear blue eyes fluttering shut when he kissed her; and the way he had of making her feel she was the only thing that mattered to him. As soon as they parted she found herself longing to see him again, a feeling so different to when she had missed Bob. The need to see him, to touch him and kiss him, was so acute that it was almost physically painful.
All the time Alice was filing and writing memos at work, she was thinking about Matty – about what he was doing, where he was. She pictured him driving Hedley around, his hands on the steering wheel, his face, clothes; and she thought about how it would feel when she next saw him.
Matty had said he would come to pick her up this morning and give her a lift to work, a little early so that they could spend some time together; then, taking a breath, he had whispered in her ear that he loved her. Remembering the sound of his voice as he said it sent a shiver down Alice’s spine. It seemed absurd she hadn’t noticed that he was in love with her before now.
She went downstairs and poured a jug of water from Bernice’s washstand into the enamel bowl. Plunging her hands into it, she scooped up the water and splashed it over her face. It felt refreshing and she shook off the moisture, rubbed a finger under each eye and patted her cheeks dry with her flat hands. She looked at herself in the cracked mirror, ran her tongue over her teeth. Should she put lipstick on for Matty? Would he notice? She wanted him to, and yet she didn’t. Tying a ribbon into her hair, she sat at the table in a spot where she would have a good view of him walking down the street.
It was the sound of his whistling that she heard first, a tune he had been humming a lot lately. Jumping out of her seat, she went to the front door and opened it. She didn’t want Bernice to come out and start busybodying around them, asking questions and making pert remarks. Stepping out onto the pavement, she shut the door behind her.
‘You look lovely,’ Matty said, kissing her lightly on the lips. ‘I’m parked round the corner.’
When they got into the car, he touched her gently on the cheek. For a second there was silence as they sat gazing at each other. He seemed a little nervous, as though she might not feel the same now that a couple of weeks had passed; but as their fingers intertwined, his other hand moved up her thigh as they kissed properly, all worries vanishing.
‘Listen to this,’ he said. ‘The car has a radio now. Mr Morley had it fitted in Manchester. Parlophone.’
He fiddled with the knobs on the dashboard, and Alice gasped as a sweet, sensual song filled the car. ‘Beautiful baby . . . It was heaven that made you, and the angels who sent you . . .’
‘Did you plan that?’ she said, astonished.
‘No,’ he laughed, and kissed her. ‘You can’t do that.’
As the music played, they couldn’t stop looking at one another, tracing patterns on each other’s palms, he delicately on her knee, she on his cheek, and kissing as if they might slip away or spin into air if they didn’t keep touching one another to be sure this – whatever it was – was still real.
‘Come back inside with me?’ Alice said breathlessly. She had just seen Bernice leave, trotting down the street, puffing on her cigarette. ‘I’ve forgotten something. An envelope I need to drop off at the council offices.’
He nodded, and they both got out and walked back towards the house, knowing perfectly well what might happen inside. And as they tumbled through the door, all thoughts of envelopes were forgotten. In a world where everything seemed so wrong, whatever was happening now, as he was kissing her and she was leading him over to the sofa, felt so very right. Feeling his strong hands over her limbs and belly and breasts, flesh against flesh as he undid his shirt, soothing the stiffness from her aching muscles as he pressed his thumbs into the knots and bumps of pain and effortlessly moved from this blessed relief and searched out the deeper, private parts of her, taking her to a deliciously heady place where she could forget the drudgery, the poverty, the worry, she soon lost her whole self in a long, slow breath and glorious, rippling, shuddering waves of pleasure.
‘Oh, Alice. My Alice. God, my life will never be real now unless you’re there with me,’ he said tenderly, looking down at her face.
She smiled. ‘You’ve a beautiful way of putting things.’
He paused. ‘And Bob, what will he have to say about this? You and me . . .?’
‘Bob will just have to think about a way of accepting it. If he’s honest with himself, he’ll know that there was never a real future for the two of us – otherwise, he wouldn’t have done what he did. Anyway, he’s gone – run away, again. Let’s not worry about him now.’
When they went back out there was a steady drizzle falling. She clutched the large envelope that she had tucked inside her coat to protect.
‘I have to drop this for Mint Imperial Mags at the council offices on the way, is that all right?’
‘I’m the one in the uniform. You’re the boss – I’m at your beck and call, aren’t I?’
‘Chop-chop, then. Make it snappy or I’ll dock your wages.’
He grinned at her and started the car.
‘You’re going up in the world, are you? Hedley can’t stop talking about you.’
Alice sighed. ‘I was. Until Ma ruined it.’
‘You’re too young to think that way. I love you, Alice. It will be all right. There’s two of us now.’
It was slow going, the drizzle making the usually carefree drivers more cautious. Matty stopped outside the council building and turned to her. ‘I’ll run it in. You sit tight.’ He took the envelope from her and opened his door.
‘Get on, then, there’s a draught.’ She smiled, and he grinned back as he closed the door.
The front seat of the car was a little untidy, Alice noticed as she waited. Mr Morley wouldn’t like that, even though this was Matty’s territory – Mr Morley always sat in the back. She bent down and gathered up rubbish: a sherbet wrapper and a flyer saying Davido Conti’s trio was coming to the Locarno. Crumpling them, she put them into her pocket. As she straightened the floor mat with her foot, she noticed the edge of what looked like a letter underneath. She reached down and pulled it out. It had been opened and was muddied with dirt from the floor, but she recognized Bob’s childish handwriting immediately. Staring down at it, she turned it over in her hand, ran a finger over the edges. Would she dare read it?
Suddenly there was movement at the driver’s side – Matty was back, opening the door. Instinctively, Alice stuffed the letter into her bag. She felt her cheeks flush at the thought of what she had done, but there was no way of undoing it now.
Making her way into the office after saying goodbye to Matty, she felt as if the letter was burning a hole in her pocket. Sweating, she sat down in a chair by the window and took it out. She looked at it, hesitating. Why had she taken it? Bob was in her past; her future was with Matty now. And hadn’t he told her he loved her? But her mind was turning. Simply seeing his handwriting had made her steal the letter, and she hadn’t been able to stop herself.
She looked at the envelope. The postmark was unreadable – perhaps she was only wondering where he was now, and if he missed her. Some part of her hoped he was regretting everything. Taking a deep breath, leaning back against the door, she slipped out the letter and unfolded it.
The first thing she noticed was the date – September 1950. She felt her stomach lurch. Not long after her father had died.
Genoa, Italy
Matty pal,
I should have written before, but letter-writing is difficult for me and I hardly get a minute. I’m here sitting on the quayside looking at my ship. We’re boarding in a couple of hours and I want to post this before we sail. I don’t get seasick any more, and if I throw up it’s because of the awful food they give you on board that we have to cook on the burners. Drinking too much in port doesn’t help either. Just had 48 hours’ leave and I should have rested but we were out on the town for the last two nights and I’m bleary-eyed and have a thumping headache. If you ever decide you want to sow your oats, join this lot. The girls here are always ready for a good time, especially if you’re willing to part with a few bob or a bit of jewellery or a trinket, and they don’t hold back like they do in Liverpool. Last night I was at a jazz dive in port and kissing one girl all night long, so hard my lips were sore, but I ended up going home with her best friend. I reckon if I’d tried harder I could have gone home with both of them! Anyway, the second one made good work of me, if you know what I mean. And with her mother in the next room.
Hope I get home soon, but for now we’re off to Cairo. Christ knows what I’ll get up to there. Only thing you have to watch out for, everyone tells me, is the flaming clap. The fellas have told me the doctors have made great strides – you don’t have to have the old needle up the chap any more and you certainly don’t go blind – a week of pills and Bob’s your uncle, you’re good to go. Imagine coming home and getting the old feller out with a bad dose, not a pretty sight. Imagine Alice’s face.
Look after her. Thanks for keeping an eye on her for me, like I asked. Make sure she’s not hanging around the dance halls with flaming Bernice. That one’s trouble. Keep me up to date with her movements. Also, I don’t trust Morley. It was a good wheeze you getting her the job so we could keep tabs on her, but I’m not sure I trust him. I hope she doesn’t realize that it’s not a coincidence every time you pop up in the most unexpected places. Of course, I don’t need to say don’t tell her about my little jaunts that I can’t seem to drag myself away from. You can’t imagine what one lassie was doing with a whisky bottle and a threepenny bit. And for a paying audience!
I look forward to your reports of my little Cherry Bomb. Thinks she’s changing the world. Let her have her dreams. She’ll soon realize being a wife and ma is the thing that will make her truly happy.
Your best pal,
Bob
Alice was motionless, as if frozen in her seat. In the minute it had taken to read the letter, her entire world – any trace of the happiness that had seemed to be within her grasp – had been destroyed.
Matty had known. He had known what Bob was up to, known about the women, and said nothing. Bob had never been serious about her, that was clear now – and wife and ma! How patronizing!
But the worst thing was realizing that all along, Matty’s friendship and kindness to her had been built on this horrible little arrangement, on Bob arranging for Matty to follow her, report back and tell him what she was up to. How dare he? And for Matty to be part of this – it felt like such a betrayal.
Not only that, but he had used her grief to lure her into his arms. Her heart pounded as she thought about it. He had let her open up to him, talked about her being noble and truthful as if it was important to him, and all the time he had known things – awful things he had been covering up for so long. She could barely breathe. What would she do now? How could she face him?
She moved around the office silently for most of the day. When she got home she undressed and got into bed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Soon she was sobbing silently into her pillow and pulling the blankets over her head, hoping Bernice wouldn’t hear her great gulps of sorrow through the thin walls.
Chapter 29
‘Mr Morley, is it too late for me to change my mind about London?’
Alice stood in front of Morley’s desk, trying to hide her nerves. Her forehead was shining with perspiration as she suppressed a wave of anxiety. It felt as if her job, her relationship with kind Mr Morley, was all she had left, and perhaps that was in danger of falling apart too if she didn’t do something to shore it up.
‘Of course it’s not,’ he said, looking pleased.
She felt her palms sweating. Should she go? She would have to make sure that they would be back in time for her to visit the children on Sunday – the last Sunday of the month. But all she could think about was getting out of this city.
‘Excellent. We’ll need to organize trains and book the hotel – the Savoy. Expensive, but that’s where everyone stays. Down tomorrow, back on Friday. Is that all right?’
‘Yes. I’ll book your room and find somewhere for myself a little closer to the exhibition.’
‘For heaven’s sake, no, Alice. I think this company can stretch to a couple of rooms at the Savoy. Besides, I’ll need to go through plans with you in the evenings, and you’ll need to shove me in the right direction. You know, the way you do.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’ She turned to go.
‘Oh, and while we’re there, please call me Hedley. I know Miss Maguire would have your guts for garters if she heard you doing that. But she’s not going to be down there to wield the rod of iron, so it’s Hedley – I insist.’
Alice smiled weakly and nodded, turning away. She got as far as the door before he added conspiratorially, ‘Perhaps you’d better not mention the Savoy to Miss Maguire either. When Kenneth took her down to London last year, he put her in a cheap dive in Earl’s Court. She’s got a jealous streak. You know what they call her?’
‘Mint Imperial Maguire.’
He laughed. ‘Yes. But of course, she’s excellent at her job – and beneath all the huffing and furiously sucking on those little sweets, she likes you, Alice.’
She watched as he leapt up and strode over to the connecting door to Miss Maguire’s office. ‘Miss Maguire – Alice has changed her mind about London. Would you organize a ticket for her, please?’
Leaving work, Alice saw Matty on the steps of the Lamp Building, grinning. She felt a little sick.
‘How did you know I was here?’ she asked tetchily. ‘Don’t answer. Matty, I know that you’ve been following me like some kind of spy, on Bob’s orders. Is that why you’re here all the time, hanging around outside the door? Pretending you’re delivering parcels and lemon bonbons to Miss Maguire’s office? Is that why you pretended you wanted me? To think I fell for all that love stuff.’
‘What?’ His face was blank with shock.
‘The least you can do is give me the courtesy of not thinking I’m as much of a fool as Bob is. I know what’s been happening. I found the letter Bob wrote to you in the car. Move out of the way.’
‘It – it’s not how it looks,’ he stuttered. ‘He did ask me, and I made a promise. But Alice—’
‘But what? You didn’t think to tell me he’d asked you to spy on me?’
‘It wasn’t spying!’ he said, reaching out a hand to clutch hers. She yanked it away. ‘He didn’t want you to know, and at first . . . Alice, love, that letter was from months ago.’
‘Of course he didn’t want me to know. The things he was doing with those . . . those . . .’ She rubbed tears from her eyes angrily. ‘And you were happy to be his spy.’
‘Stop calling me a spy. I love you.’ He reached out again, but her expression was so forbidding that he couldn’t quite complete the gesture, and his arm fell back to his side.
‘And yet here you are. Every day, turning up. Oh look, there’s Matty. At the Locarno. Oh look, how lovely, he’s waiting for me after work. Or he just happened to be at Dryburgh Terrace as I walk around the corner! Oh, thank God, Matty’s saved me from Roddy. What a coincidence. And all this time, I thought you wanted to see me! And you . . . you . . . what I let you do to me!’
He loosened his tie as if it was strangling him. ‘You’ve got it all wrong!’
‘Now I see it. I can’t bear it. I need to be on my own.’
‘No, wait. Alice – you know I love you. And because I love you, I didn’t want to tell you. Because I knew it would hurt your feelings!’
‘You think I’m not strong enough to cope with that? Nothing would have surprised me with Bob. But you? I’m surprised and shocked you couldn’t be honest with me.’
He opened his mouth to speak.
‘No, stop. I don’t want to hear,’ she said, pushing past him and walking down the steps.
