Christmas Wishes (46 page)

There was a general laugh as people began to fight their way off the tram against the tide of incoming passengers, and the conductor grinned sheepishly when someone pointed to a sign giving the number of standing passengers allowed. ‘Awright, awright; but if I stuck to them rules you’d none of you be in work on time,’ he pointed out righteously. He reached up and tinged the bell. ‘Hold very tight, please, ladies and gents.’

With a little more room, Joy tried to move away from Edward, but he was having none of it. ‘Stop wriggling,’ he ordered. ‘We get off at the next stop so this will be my last chance of a cuddle before you go your way and I go mine.’

Joy giggled. ‘Trams are not the place for cuddling,’ she said reprovingly. ‘However, if you’re set on it, you might give Ducky the odd squeeze. She’s had a tough morning and could do with a show of affection.’

Edward was beginning to respond when the tram stopped once more and a number of passengers, including Joy, Ducky and Edward, surged off the vehicle and on to the pavement. Joy felt the breeze from the Mersey caress her face and turned impulsively to Edward. ‘It’s a lovely day, isn’t it? I can feel the sunshine, and the breeze too. Wouldn’t it be nice to go into the country tomorrow, if the weather stays good? Or we could go to New Brighton; oh, do say we can, Edward! Gillian’s off somewhere with Keith, but if you were free … oh, was that what you were going to suggest when we meet at lunchtime? I do hope so.’

Edward laughed. ‘Well, maybe something similar,’ he said cheerfully, drawing her to a halt as they reached her office block. ‘It’s exciting … but I don’t mean to say any more. I’ll pick you up here at half past twelve, and don’t forget to bring your grub. I’ll buy you a cup of tea, though, before we part.’

All through the morning, Joy wondered what delightful treat Edward was planning. She had sensed his excitement, felt it running through her like an electric shock when he had put his arms round her in the tram.

She was just thinking that it would never be half past twelve when she felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Off with you, queen! I’ll take good care of your switchboard, you can be sure of that. Enjoy your lunch and be back by half past one,’ a cheerful voice said in her ear.

Joy turned towards the girl who had spoken. ‘Thanks, Myra. I hope the weather will stay fine for me,’ she said. She stood up and heard the other girl slide into her seat. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be back in plenty of time. I’ve got a carry-out so shan’t be queueing for a seat in Lyons or Fuller’s.’

She hurried out of the building, not bothering to use her stick, and was no sooner through the double doors than a familiar voice hailed her and a hand took hers. ‘On time, as usual. Come on, let’s get ourselves a seat where we can’t be overheard.’

‘Secrets?’ Joy said hopefully. ‘Oh, Edward, I do love secrets.’

‘Well, not exactly … here’s a good place to sit,’ he said, and pressed Joy gently down on what she realised was a painted wooden bench; she could feel the bubbles in the paintwork where the sun had raised blisters. ‘Ready?’

Joy hugged herself, then fished her lunch packet out of her handbag and began to undo the greaseproof paper in which the food had been wrapped. ‘Carry on. Want a bit of my pasty?’ she asked, speaking rather thickly through a mouthful.

‘Later,’ Edward said. ‘Listen, queen; do you remember the summer before you went to Blinkers when you and I didn’t meet in the holidays because I was working for my uncle Meirion on a farm outside Denbigh? And I went last summer as well, but for a much shorter time?’

‘He’s the one who broke his leg, isn’t he? You’ve mentioned him several times, but of course not having actually met them—’

Edward interrupted her. ‘Well, we can soon remedy that. If you’re agreeable, we could go there this very weekend. The thing is, queen, Uncle Meirion and Auntie Myfanwy have no kids of their own, and Uncle Meirion has made me an incredible offer. I guess he knows I find accountancy pretty boring, and he says if I’ll give up my place at university and my holiday job and work full time on the farm, he’ll leave it to me in his will. But even better, he means to make me a partner once I’ve proved my worth. That shouldn’t take long, because I don’t mind telling you, sweetheart, that I’m a good deal better at farming than accounting. So I’m going to leave university.’

There was an appreciable pause before Joy spoke. ‘Of course I can quite see that it’s a wonderful opportunity,’ she said at last, ‘but oh, Edward, I shall miss you dreadfully. Not because you’re such a tremendous help to me, I hope I’m not that selfish, but because you’re my best friend, the person I love most next to Dad and Gillian. In fact, I can’t imagine life without you, but of course that’s downright silly. You weren’t with me at the LSB, and I managed to survive the time, so I’m sure I’ll very soon learn to manage without you. I expect you’ll come back to Liverpool sometimes …’

‘But you won’t have to learn to manage without me,’ Edward said eagerly. ‘You’re eighteen years old and I’m twenty, exactly the same ages as your parents were when they married.’ He leaned across and took both her hands in his. ‘Darling Joy, I explained the situation to my uncle and aunt and they are willing – no, eager – for me to bring a wife with me to Cae Madog farm. Poor Auntie Fan – that’s what I call her – has terrible arthritis and would be glad of a hand around the house.’

Joy frowned. Could she be hearing right? He was talking as though the whole thing was cut and dried, yet there had certainly never been any mention of marriage between them. Surely he should not have told his relatives that he was contemplating such a huge step without consulting me first, she thought angrily. But Edward was speaking again. ‘Darling Joy, I know it’s all a bit sudden; I haven’t even told you how very much I love you, but can’t you see, this is a chance in a thousand and I’ve simply got to take it, or regret it for the rest of my life.’

‘Oh, I quite see, but I’m afraid I’d be pretty useless on a farm,’ Joy said coolly. ‘Have you forgotten I’m blind, or did your aunt and uncle say it didn’t matter? Honestly, Edward, of all the daft ideas! I earn a good salary from Wittard’s and I manage pretty well with the housekeeping, though I admit Auntie Clarke gives me a lot of help. What’s more, I don’t want to be separated from Gillian by miles and miles.’

‘But sweetheart, you know very well that Gillian means to marry Keith and go happily off to be a doctor’s wife as soon as he qualifies,’ Edward said, and Joy could hear the desperation in his voice.

She was sorry for it, but was still suffering from a sense of annoyance because he had not thought to even hint at any of this until the chips were down and a decision had to be made. ‘Oh, I know that Gillian and Keith will marry and move away,’ Joy said impatiently. ‘But that’s been planned well in advance, wouldn’t you say? Keith’s been talking about it ever since he and Gillian got serious, whereas you seem to have planned my future without a word to me.’

‘You’re right. I’m a thoughtless, selfish fool,’ Edward said humbly. ‘It’s just that when my uncle’s letter arrived this morning, my first thought was that I couldn’t bear to be parted from you. So I rang him and explained and he said at once that as my wife you would be very welcome. I’m sorry, I do realise I did it the wrong way round and should have put it to you first, but I thought – I thought …’

‘You thought that poor old Joy would be glad to do anything to secure her future,’ she said bitterly. ‘You thought I’d jump at getting any husband, like a trout at a fly. But just because I can’t see doesn’t mean I’m desperate for marriage.’ She turned angrily towards where Edward was sitting next to her. ‘So far as I can make out, marriage is just a trap and I’d be better off single.’

‘You’re misunderstanding me, Joy,’ Edward said, sounding both hurt and puzzled. ‘What’s the matter with you? You’ve never spoken to me like this before. Most girls would think a proposal of marriage a compliment …’

‘Oh, most girls might, but I’m not like most girls, so the answer’s no,’ Joy snapped. ‘You’ve been a good friend to me, Edward, but I couldn’t possibly marry you. You see, I’m already in love in a sort of way. Do you remember when those girls tried to beat me up and I was rescued by a fellow who heard my shouts?’

Edward listened whilst she described the whistlers – or rather whistler, for she had always secretly believed that it was the same person on each occasion. When she had finished, he was silent for a few moments, wondering what to say. He hated to disillusion her, but it had to be done. ‘Oh, sweetheart, a whistle is just about the most anonymous sound that anyone can make. Of course, all your whistlers
might
have been the same person, but do you think it’s likely, given that you heard them in London and Llandudno as well as Liverpool? What’s more, it could have been a woman – had you thought of that?’

‘No,’ Joy said sulkily, after a pause. ‘But there is another reason for my not marrying and going away from Gillian, not yet. I’ve been having these brief moments, sightings I call them, when I can see for a flash of time just as clearly as I did before the accident. Well, you were with us by the boating lake when I had the most recent one. And I’m pretty sure it means my eyes are beginning to work properly again. The thing is, it’s only when I’m with Gillian that I get these sightings. I’m sure they will improve and happen more often, and they probably don’t depend upon Gillian’s presence, but I need to be near her for the time being. It’s a secret from everyone else, including Dad, and I want to be certain before I talk of it. Oh, I would so love to be able to see again, to see the man I mean to marry, whether it’s you, the whistler, or someone else altogether. Can you understand that?’

‘Ye-es,’ Edward said slowly after a moment. ‘But suppose I told you it’s possible that those – those sightings were caused by something quite different? Weren’t really your eyes seeing at all? After what happened at the boating lake I talked it over with Gillian and she agrees with me …’

Joy felt herself begin to bristle. ‘So you’ve discussed me with my sister, as well as your aunt and uncle?’ she said, keeping her voice level with difficulty. ‘And Gillian told you I’d had other moments when I could see? And the pair of you decided I was making it up – wishful thinking, it’s called – so I might as well marry you, squint, wooden leg and all?’ She jumped to her feet and brandished her stick, scattering her food and not caring a jot. ‘Well, you’re both bloody well wrong, do you hear me? I
have
had flashes of being able to see, and they
will
get closer and closer until I can see just as well as you or bloody Gillian! And now bugger off and don’t ever come back, because I’m going back to Wittard’s now and I don’t need you or anyone else to show me the way!’

Edward jumped to his feet, then very slowly he sat down again, watching Joy’s slender, upright back disappear into the distance. What a dreadful mess he’d made of everything! He didn’t blame Joy for turning down an offer of marriage which had not only been made clumsily, but had come out of the blue. In all his previous dealings with Joy, he had been careful never to let her know how he felt. He knew how important it was that she should know he loved her for herself, was neither sorry for her nor pitied her. In fact he had loved her ever since he had started accompanying her to school, though in those days he had not realised it. Why in God’s name had he not told her so? But the situation was a difficult one; to speak of love to a girl who had had no experience of other men and could not see his face seemed unfair to say the least. And of course it had been madness first to discuss the matter with his aunt and uncle and then to admit that he had talked about her so-called ‘sightings’ with her sister. The odd thing was that neither Edward himself, nor Gillian, had seen the fatal flaw in Joy’s most recent ‘sighting’ at first, not until she had described the scene in great detail to the pair of them as they had hurried home, Gillian on her left and Edward on her right.

They had taken a boat out on the lake so that Joy could display her rowing skill to Edward, but the boat had sprung a leak and Edward had grabbed the oars from her and made hastily for the bank. The three of them had been standing on the bank, the girls wringing out the skirts of their summer dresses, when Joy had stopped doing that in order to clutch the arm of each. ‘I saw it!’ she had said, her voice high with excitement. ‘I saw the lake, and you, Edward, and Gillian in her best blue gingham dress … it’s gone again, but I did see it, honest to God.’

Neither of her companions had spoken for a moment, Edward too startled to say anything and Gillian giving him a worried glance before breaking into hasty speech. ‘Oh, Joy, how wonderful! But we can’t stand here in wet dresses, even though it’s a lovely sunny day. We’d best get back home and change.’

They had set off for Old Gadwall Street and it was not until Joy was upstairs cleaning up that Edward had managed to get Gillian to himself and they were able to discuss what had happened, and the discrepancy that had struck them on the way home. For now they both believed that Joy’s ‘sightings’ were not what they seemed. Gillian’s dress that day was sunshine yellow; it was Joy who had worn blue gingham.

‘I don’t understand it,’ Gillian had whispered as she and Edward laid the table for tea. ‘But I think it’s something to do with being a twin, a sort of thought transference, only in pictures. Thinking back, it’s only happened two or three times, and on each occasion something pretty dramatic was taking place. The first one was on the platform at Lime Street, when Daddy said I wasn’t there and then Joy must have sensed that I was, and thought she’d actually seen me. We do sense each other’s presence. The second time was on the beach at Llandudno, when she’d been lost and heard someone whistling … and then saw her own legs, scratched and bruised and sandy. Only she thought it was
her
seeing them, whereas really it was me, running over to take her hand and lead her back to the others. Thought transference, in other words – twins can do that sometimes.’

‘And the third time was just now,’ Edward had volunteered, nodding. ‘Because the boat was filling up with water and I was trying to get us ashore … it
was
quite dramatic, come to think, and it seems to be dramatic events which poor Joy thinks she actually sees. Now we know different, however, what do we tell Joy?’