Elm Tree Road (12 page)

She kept busy enough to go to bed every night tired, so she got some sleep, but she couldn’t get tired enough to ensure a full night’s sleep. She’d lost weight, knew she looked strained, but pride made her keep herself neat in the new clothes she’d had to buy to replace those lost in the explosion.

But wherever she went, she took care not to pass the end of Cassia Street, making long detours if necessary to avoid it. She didn’t want to see any sign of what had happened in Willow Court. Mr Garrett said the local council had ordered the rest of the buildings in the court to be pulled down, because they were unsafe. People weren’t allowed to build such courts nowadays. They were not only
old-fashioned
, but unhygienic.

She nodded when he told her, because he seemed to regard it as good news, but what did she care about the news? It was too late to save her daughter.

By the end of June, the insurance money had been paid and Nell had over thirteen hundred pounds in her own savings bank account. As soon as the angel tombstone had been erected over her daughter’s grave, she intended to leave the North and make a new life for herself.

But though she racked her brain, she still couldn’t think what exactly to do. All she knew was that she felt much better out in the open air and that she wanted to go back to Wiltshire eventually and look for her older sister Mattie.

News of the money spread quickly through the little town, people marvelling that a young woman should have so much. A few even congratulated her on her good fortune, but she told them it wasn’t good fortune to lose a child, and after that had happened a few times, no one else said anything.

Frank stared at the envelope his aunt had handed to him when he got home from work. His cousin’s bad luck had been his good fortune because he’d gone to live with them to help out. His aunt certainly knew how to make you comfortable – and how to do it without spending extravagantly.

‘Go on, lad! It’s from Lancashire. Open it,’ his uncle said.

He ripped off the side of the envelope to find a grubby piece of paper, with a badly spelt message printed on it.

Frank glared at the piece of paper, unable to speak for anger. His hunch had been correct. He knew Cliff wouldn’t have left his family unprovided for. Greenhills always looked after their own.

Only
she
wasn’t their own.

He passed the piece of paper to his uncle, who read it and cursed. His aunt snatched it out of her husband’s hand, read it and wailed aloud.

Then they both turned to him.

‘You’ll have to do something about it, Frank.’

‘What can I do?’

‘Go and see her. Tell her she owes us some of that money.’

‘Why should she pay us?’ Frank wouldn’t, if it was him. But he did like the idea of getting hold of some of that money. ‘I’ll have to think about it. I can’t keep taking time off work or I’ll get the sack.’

‘You’ll think of something. You always were a clever lad. She’s not going to get the better of us Greenhills.’

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was rich now. If he didn’t do something, another lucky fellow would get Cliff’s money.

It was a talk at the Women’s Afternoon Club at the chapel which gave Nell an idea about what to do next. She’d only gone to get away from Mrs Garrett’s kind fussing, not even knowing what this month’s talk was about.

It turned out to be about hiking, which was a popular summer activity with some people. It wasn’t one Nell had ever considered taking up, and even if she had, no one she knew could afford to get away and walk for days on end.
Even though they had holidays from work, most people had families and children, which left little, if any, money to spare. No, as far as she was concerned, hiking was for richer people.

Lucky them!

Only … she was comfortably off now, some would say rich. She could do what she wanted. She began to listen more carefully.

The speakers were two vigorous-looking women from Manchester, a Mrs Petherby and a Miss Porter, who were neither young nor old. They produced slides of the places they’d been to see, showing the audience their special knapsacks and walking boots. They were full of suggestions about how even married women with children could occasionally escape into the countryside for a few hours to get some fresh air into their own and their families’ lungs. Which just showed how little they knew of ordinary people’s lives.

When the talk was over, Nell sat where she was for a moment or two, much struck by what they’d said. She wasn’t poor now, so she could do what she wanted.

If she dared.

She went across to the speakers and waited patiently till they’d been supplied with cups of tea. She listened with interest as they answered other people’s questions. There was no hurry. Time was something she had too much of.

When her turn came, she said, ‘I might like to do some hiking, but I’m not sure exactly what I’d need or how to set about it.’ After a moment’s hesitation, she added, ‘My husband was killed suddenly and I think time to myself in the open air might help me recover.’

The older of the two women, Mrs Petherby, at once took Nell aside. ‘Let’s talk about this more privately. Flora, love, keep folk away from us for a while.’

Her companion waved one hand and turned to deal with another lady who’d come up to ask something.

‘Have you the money to do this?’ Mrs Petherby asked bluntly.

‘Yes. My husband had an insurance policy.’

‘You look as if you need a restful time.’

Nell could only manage, ‘I do.’

‘Why don’t you come to us in Manchester and stay a night or two? We’ll take you shopping, help you set yourself up for hiking and show you how to plan a route.’

‘You’d do that?’

The speaker gave one of her jolly laughs. ‘I’m the founder member of our local Fresh Air Movement. I want to make the world a healthier place.’ Her voice grew softer. ‘And when life troubles me, I get out into the open air to work out what to do. It always helps. My husband died a few years ago, you see, after only a year of marriage, so I know how you feel. I still miss him. Thank goodness I had my sister Flora to turn to. Don’t you have any family, dear?’

‘None who could take me in.’ Nell didn’t tell her that she hadn’t missed Cliff in the slightest, that it was a relief to be rid of him. She hadn’t told anyone that, because she felt guilty, but she couldn’t change how she felt. ‘Are you sure it’d be all right?’

‘Of course I am. We women must help one another in this modern world, because the men won’t, will they?’

Nell had never thought of it that way. ‘Then I’d love to come. When would suit you?’

‘How about the day after tomorrow? That gives you time to prepare. Unless you have something else to do here still? Only it’s best to take advantage of the summer if you want to go on a long hike.’

‘I’ve attended to everything that was needed. I’m just … searching for something to do. All I know is, I don’t want to stay here and I feel better in the open air.’

‘That’s a good start.’ Mrs Petherby pulled out a business card and handed it to her. ‘We’ll see you the day after tomorrow, then. Come in the afternoon, it doesn’t matter exactly when you arrive. I’d better go and speak to other people now, or someone’s sure to take umbrage.’

She clapped Nell on the back and walked back to join her companion.

Nell looked down at the business card. She’d seen such things but no one had ever given her one before. It was usually men who dealt in business cards, not women. She looked across the room, envying the two smiling speakers their confidence and knowledge of the world.

And that last thought, more than anything, decided her to do it. If she went out into the world, she was bound to learn so much. Why, she’d only ever seen Swindon and this part of Lancashire. She knew little, even about her own country.

Anyway, what had she to lose?

By the time she got back to the Garretts’ house, it was teatime.

After all the clearing up and getting the children to bed, it was late enough for her to excuse herself and go to bed as well. She needed to think good and hard.

She didn’t mention what she was going to do – not yet.
In the morning the sun was shining and Nell stood by the open dormer window, breathing in the fresh air, admiring the oasis of greenery the garden offered.

To her surprise, she’d had the best night’s sleep since …
it
had happened. And she felt even more certain of her decision. Going away would set her free. Strangers wouldn’t know what had happened to her, would just treat her normally. And oh, how she longed for some quiet time in the fresh air!

Her kind hosts stared at her in shock when she announced her plan after breakfast.

‘My dear, you can’t possibly go off on your own!’ Mrs Garrett said at once. ‘I know this is 1912 and young women have a lot more freedom than I ever had, but it’d be
dangerous
. Oh dear, I wish I’d never suggested you went to those talks.’

Mr Garrett was more thoughtful once the first shock was over. ‘If you had someone to go with you, it might be a good idea, but I really can’t allow you to go on your own.’

She didn’t say that she was twenty-three years old and he wasn’t her guardian. She didn’t want to get into an argument. Then the solution came to her.

‘I’ll still go over to stay with Mrs Petherby and her friend, though, to find out as much as I can,’ she said. ‘Even if nothing comes of it, going to visit them will be a change, won’t it? I’m sure that’ll be good for me.’

He nodded at once. ‘Good idea. Then you can come back and we’ll discuss it. If we can find a lady hikers’ club nearby, you can join it and get in some practice.’

‘Are there such clubs? I’ve never heard of anything like that.’

He hesitated, then said in an apologetic tone, ‘There are quite a few clubs of various sorts, but these are usually for women of … um … better means than you had before. Now that you have some money, and with my wife and myself to sponsor you, there are quite a few clubs you might join. I’m fairly sure there’s a lady hikers’ club in Rochdale – or was it Oldham? Anyway, if you’re going to visit Mrs Petherby, that’ll give me time to make enquiries.’

She went up to her room, deciding to wash a few garments by hand before she went. The maid was happy to let her use the outer scullery and mangle, where a woman came once a week to do the family’s laundry. Although the day was quite cloudy, there was a brisk wind and the clothes dried quickly, so Nell heated the flat iron and soon had them dealt with.

To her relief, two ladies called on Mrs Garrett in the later afternoon to discuss a charitable matter, so she could go up to her room and pack, safe in the knowledge that no one would be likely to come in and find out what she was doing. They’d expect her to take an overnight case, but not all her clothes. Indeed, Mrs Garrett had told her where to find one in the attic and to borrow it.

She also took the opportunity to sew a pocket into her handbag for the new bank book, which had a frighteningly large amount of money in it.

That made her wonder if she was wise to take that bank book with her. Maybe she should move some of the money into another savings account and send this bank book to the Garretts for safe keeping, or to her sister? No, not Renie. The Garretts would be safer, since they weren’t likely to move away.

That reminded her that she had to tell Renie what she was doing, so she wrote a long letter about it. This time she didn’t cry all over it … well, not much. She’d been in luck. The monumental masons had already had a beautiful white marble angel ready, except for the wording. So it now stood keeping watch over Sarah.

With everything settled, Nell felt calm and emotionless, divorced from everything. She wasn’t sure whether that was good or not, but it was how she felt. Doing something was certainly easier than weeping all the time.

As the train pulled into Manchester’s Victoria Station early the following afternoon, Nell felt suddenly nervous, for all the calm certainty she’d experienced during the past two days about what she was planning. Now that she was on her own in a strange city, she became all too aware of how vulnerable she was.

She stood still for a while, watching other people, working out what was going on. Eventually she made her way to the cab rank, where there were some horse cabs to one side and three modern motor cabs to the other side. She’d only once ridden in a motor vehicle, when she was running away with Cliff, and had no idea whether they’d be more expensive, but she had a sudden urge to try riding in one.

Approaching one of the drivers, she asked how much it would cost to go to the address Mrs Petherby had given her.

He looked at her clothes with a shrewd eye and said, ‘It’s not cheap, love. That street is quite a way out. Look, you’re new to the city, aren’t you? If you wait half an hour, I’ll
take you there for a special price of two shillings because it’s on my way to pick up a gentleman I bring into town every week. You can get a cup of tea for twopence while you wait.’

His kindness made her feel much better. ‘That’s very good of you. Thank you. I’ll do that.’

He pointed to the station clock. ‘Keep an eye on the time and come back at half past two sharp. I can’t afford to wait. I’m only taking short fares till then.’

She walked across to the refreshment room and followed his advice. There was nothing like a cup of tea to hearten you – even one as stewed as this. She’d be ashamed to offer this to anyone.

No one looked at her or bothered her in any way as she sat waiting, keeping one eye on the clock. They were all too busy getting on with their own lives. Just as she was getting on with hers. That was a relief after all the attention she’d received lately, however well meant.

The taxi driver waved to her cheerfully and helped her inside, then started the motor and chugged slowly out towards some streets that looked very crowded and busy. Nell clutched the leather loop beside her seat, surprised that with so many vehicles entering or leaving the station they didn’t collide with one another. She felt tense for a while, but gradually relaxed and began to enjoy the feeling of being driven in luxury.

Mrs Petherby’s house was a large villa in a street of similar dwellings, the sorts of houses where people had maids and gardeners. For a moment, the contrast between this place and Willow Court overwhelmed Nell, but she pushed that thought aside. She’d been invited
to stay, hadn’t she? So they must think she was good enough.

She paid the taxi driver and thanked him, then got out and walked briskly up the path to the front door.

Mrs Petherby opened the door before she could knock. ‘Saw you coming from the front sitting room. Come in, my dear, come in!’ She raised her voice and bellowed, ‘She’s here, Flora! Told you she would be. Tell Mary to put the kettle on.’

She turned to beam at Nell. ‘I’ll show you to your bedroom, then we’ll have a nice cup of tea.’

Nell hid her amusement at how loud Mrs Petherby was, even in her own home. No wonder she’d had no trouble making herself heard in the church hall. But she was kind too, and made you feel very welcome.

The bedroom took Nell’s breath away. It was far more luxurious than any she’d ever slept in before – fit for a duchess, with a shiny satin quilt. Just plain cream in colour, with satin stripes round the edges in the same colour. It’d show the dirt. ‘What a beautiful room!’