‘I’ll leave you to it, and don’t forget if there’s anything I can do, you only have to ask.’
‘Thanks,’ Denis said, already rifling through a drawer as Nelly bustled out.
It took Denis an hour but at last he found the letter and number, clutching the piece of paper as he hurried to the nearest telephone box.
Nelly Cox was right, Laura’s family had to be told, and they might offer to help. Would they stump up money for the funeral? He hoped so. Laura deserved a better send-off than one the National Assistance would provide.
‘Hello,’ a voice said, the soft Scottish burr making Denis gulp with pain. When he’d first met Laura, she too had had those soft tones. She’d been working as a chambermaid in a hotel, but wanted to be a receptionist. To gain promotion she had worked hard to remove all trace of her Scottish ancestry.
‘Hello,’ Denis choked. ‘Is that Andy?’
‘Yes, and who’s this?’
‘It’s Denis, Laura’s husband. I’m ringing to tell you that . . . that she’s passed away.’
For a moment there was silence, but then Andy said, ‘No, no, I can’t believe it. What happened?’
‘It was her heart,’ Denis told him. ‘She . . . she died at home.’
There was another moment’s silence, and then his voice husky with distress, Andy said, ‘I . . . I’ll have to tell my parents and then come down for the funeral. When is it?’
‘I dunno. I haven’t made any arrangements yet and I can’t until I somehow get the money to pay for it.’
‘I see,’ he said, but then his voice became brusque. ‘In that case I’ll sort things out with my office and then get the first train to London in the morning. Are you still at the same address?’
‘No, we live in Battersea now,’ and after giving him the new address, they said their goodbyes, Denis feeling a sense of relief as he replaced the receiver. It seemed Laura’s parents were still alive, so surely they, or Andy, would sort out Tommy’s future. The boy was part of their family after all, and deserved a better life than this.
As Denis walked home he admitted where his thoughts were taking him. He’d been a useless father and knew he wouldn’t be able to cope with the boy. He’d taken no interest in his son since losing his daughter, drowning his pain with drink, and though he’d stopped boozing, it hadn’t made any difference. He still hadn’t been able to save Laura.
Denis stopped off at the off-licence. He had found another reason to drink again. When Andy arrived, he’d see what a useless drunk he was, and with any luck he’d take Tommy back to Scotland with him. The boy would have a good life there and would be well provided for.
At home again, Denis drank deeply. He wasn’t doing this for himself. He was doing it for Tommy.
Though a school holiday, Sally didn’t have a problem with looking after Tommy. The boy was subdued, and Angel oddly quiet too as though aware that Tommy wasn’t himself. The Friday morning passed without any problems. However after lunch the boy said, ‘I want to see me dad.’
‘He may not be in, Tommy. He . . . he has a lot of things to sort out,’ Sally said, avoiding mentioning the funeral arrangements. ‘But come on, we’ll go and see. Won’t be long, Gran,’ she called, taking Angel along too.
Denis was in, but swayed as he opened the door, his hand reaching to cling to the frame for support. ‘I thought you were Andy,’ he slurred. ‘I’m eshpecting him.’
‘Yer drunk,’ Tommy said, his mouth set in a scowl as he looked up at his father.
‘Just drowning me shorrows. You can’t blame a man for that.’
‘Come on, Tommy, you can see your dad later,’ Sally urged.
‘Yeah, go with Shally,’ Denis agreed.
‘Who’s Andy?’ Tommy asked.
‘He’s your uncle, but we’ve got things to talk about before you meet him. Now bugger off, son.’
Sally’s lips thinned and she placed an arm around the boy’s small shoulders to lead him away. With Denis in that state Tommy was better off out of the way, but they found Sadie snoozing, and Sally was worried that the children would wake her.
‘You can play outside, but Tommy, leave your father in peace.’
‘Yeah, all right.’
Angel grabbed her marbles, challenging Tommy to a game, and after warning them to stay in the lane, they ran out, leaving Sally to sink into a chair. She was disgusted with Denis Walters and felt heartsick for Tommy. With his father on the booze again, what sort of future did the poor lad have?
Sally didn’t get the chance to sit for long, her gran waking up and asking for a drink. This was followed by a visit from Nelly. ‘I saw the kids playing outside. How is Tommy coping?’ she asked.
‘He slept with Mum last night and she said he had a good cry, but now his father is back on the booze.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ the old lady said, greeting Sadie with a grin as they walked into the kitchen. ‘Hello, mate. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, and what are you looking so cheerful about?’
‘I’m moving out of Candle Lane in a couple of weeks.’
‘Well, you’ve changed your tune. I thought you said they’d have to drag you out kicking and screaming.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ve had the offer of a place in Osborne House.’
‘What! But that’s an old people’s home.’
‘Yeah, I know, but I’ve been to see it and it looks lovely. I’ll have me own room, and I’ve decided it would be better to be amongst people of me own age than stuck alone in a tower block. It’s all right for you, Sadie, you’ve got your family around you, but me, well, I ain’t got anyone.’
Sally gulped, feeling sorry for Nelly, and vowed to visit her regularly.
‘Come on, Tommy, let’s play tag,’ Angel urged. ‘I’m fed up with playing marbles.’
‘All right, but I want to keep an eye out for me uncle.’
They played the game for a while, but then both out of breath they sat on the kerb. Tommy suddenly spotted a man with ginger hair turning into the lane, but with no idea what his uncle looked like he said, ‘Angel, do you fink he’s me uncle?’
‘He might be,’ Angel replied. ‘Come on, let’s ask him.’
The two children ran up to the man, Tommy saying, ‘Are you me Uncle Andy?’
‘Well now, I held a baby called Thomas many years ago, but surely this big strapping lad in front of me can’t be him.’
‘Thomas,’ Angel spluttered, liking this man with his funny way of talking. ‘He ain’t Thomas. His name is Tommy.’
The man smiled, but there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes. ‘And what is your name, lassie?’
‘I’m Angel.’
‘And a bonny Angel you are too.’
Tommy tugged on his arm, asking again, ‘Are you me uncle?’
‘If you’re Tommy Walters, then yes I am. Now, how about we go and have a word with your father?’
‘He’s in there,’ Tommy said, pointing to his front door.
‘Aren’t you coming in with me?’
‘Nah, me dad’s pissed and told me to stay out of the way. Since me muvver died, I’ve been sleeping next door in Angel’s house.’
For a moment the man looked shocked, but then he crouched down in front of Tommy. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your mother, lad.’
Tommy lowered his head, his little teeth biting on his bottom lip. The man pulled the boy into his arms. ‘There’s no shame in tears,’ he murmured.
Angel hovered as Tommy settled against his uncle for a while, but then the man said, ‘I must talk to your father, lad.’
Tommy cuffed his face, both children watching as his uncle knocked on the door. Denis Walters opened it, and after inviting the man in, the door closed abruptly.
‘He seems nice,’ Angel said.
‘Yeah, but don’t you dare tell me mates that I cuddled him.’
‘Why not?’
‘’Cos I don’t want them to think I’m a cissie.’
Angel looked bemused, but said, ‘All right, but I want a suck on your gobstopper.’
Tommy sprinted off, shouting, ‘You’ve got to catch me first.’
‘Have a seat, Andy,’ Denis slurred.
‘Only Laura called me Andy,’ he said sadly. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone.’
‘Nor can I,’ Denis said, taking a swig of whisky. ‘I can understand you having a drink or two. I didn’t take it well when I lost my wife.’
‘I didn’t know, and I’m shorry to hear that.’
‘I did write to Laura but she never replied. Mind you, I wrote to your old address so she may not have got my letters.’
‘Yesh, that’s probably it. Do you want a drop of whisky?’
‘No thanks. I saw Thomas outside, he’s a nice-looking lad.’
‘He ain’t a bad kid, but he’s had it rough for a while.’
‘Rough! What do you mean?’
Andrew listened as Denis began to speak, the man often stumbling over his words, and found that he had to fight his growing anger. Denis was moronic, bemoaning his life, and it soon became obvious that he was after money. Maybe it was the drink talking, but when he insinuated that he couldn’t look after his own son, Andrew didn’t want to hear any more. ‘Listen, man, let’s try to sober you up. We can’t talk while you’re in this state.’
‘I’m all right,’ he said, his hand reaching for the bottle again.
‘No,’ Andrew said sharply, ‘you’ve had enough and I think you had better sleep it off. Where is your bedroom?’
Denis protested, but the drink overcame him and he allowed himself to be led upstairs. When he saw the bed he backed away. ‘No! No.’
Andrew ignored his protest, pressing him down, Denis mumbling as he fell on his side, ‘Laura, Laura,’ and then clutching a pillow he almost immediately passed out.
The room looked spartan and Andrew shook his head. Who’d have thought his sister’s life would come to this, living in poverty in little more than a hovel? The kitchen had been bad enough, but this room was even worse. Guilt flooded him and he cursed himself for not keeping in touch. Laura may have run away, may have married a useless waster, but she had deserved better than this.
He’d been saddened when Denis had told him that their little girl had died, but also angry. The man had known that Laura had a heart defect, and that she shouldn’t have children, but he’d done nothing to prevent it. The strain of having another child must have been enormous on Laura’s heart, and extra damage must have been done.
Denis slept on, snoring loudly, and downstairs, Andrew opened the street door to see if his nephew was still around.
There was no sign of him, the lane dismal, and though he had just arrived, Andrew was already longing for home, though as he’d told Denis, he had no wife to welcome him back. Not that Moira would have greeted him with open arms, Andrew thought. Moira and her family had lived close by and they had sort of fallen into courting, getting married six months before the war. She had become pregnant almost immediately, but then he’d been called up, his son nine months old before he was given leave.
His mind shied away from the intimate side of his marriage and the disappointment of a cold wife and he focused instead on his son. Donald was a grown man now, married to a lovely girl, and his first grandchild was on the way.
However, before returning to Scotland Andrew wanted to see a bit of his nephew and now wondered if the boy was next door. He’d have a quick wash and then go to the house, hoping that they wouldn’t mind the intrusion.
* * *
The children had scooted in, Angel saying, ‘Mummy, we saw Tommy’s uncle and he’s nice. I want one.’
‘Sorry, darling. I’m afraid I was an only child so there’s no chance of that. You have got an auntie though. Your Aunt Ann.’
‘It isn’t fair. I want an uncle too.’
‘I only saw him for a minute or two,’ Tommy complained. ‘He’s been in with me dad for ages.’
A knock on the door interrupted Tommy and going to open it, Sally said, ‘Yes, can I help you?’
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but if Tommy is here, would it be all right to see him?’
‘Oh, you must be his uncle.’
‘Yes, that’s right, Andrew Munro, but please call me Andrew. I’m pleased to meet you.’
‘Come on in,’ Sally invited.
He seemed to study her face for a moment, but then Sally led him to the kitchen and as soon as Tommy saw the man he ran up to him. ‘Watcha, did me dad say I can come home now?’
‘I’m afraid not, he’s asleep, but no doubt it won’t be long before he wakes up. In the meantime, laddie, I thought we could become better acquainted.’
‘You don’t ’arf talk funny.’
‘So do you, lad,’ he said, smiling with amusement.
Sally introduced him to Sadie, and then offered the man a drink. He spoke mostly to Tommy, though of course Angel refused to be left out, and then after half an hour he stood up. ‘Well, Tommy, I’d best get back to see if your father is awake. We’ve got a lot to sort out, but no doubt I’ll see you again soon.’
He said goodbye to them all, and as Tommy ran with him to the door, Angel said, ‘Mummy, something is happening.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I dunno, but it’s like I’m having a dream and my head feels funny.’
Sally knelt beside her daughter, aware of the street door closing as Tommy’s uncle left. Then Angel asked, ‘Will Nanny be home soon?’
‘Yes, in about half an hour,’ Sally said, bewildered when her daughter shook her head as though to clear it.
Angel smiled. ‘I feel all right now.’
‘Are you sure?’
With an affirmative from her daughter, Sally stood up. She had no idea what had just happened, but with her mother due home soon she’d better make a start on their dinner.
Ruth turned into Candle Lane, her feet throbbing. Tommy had been on her mind all day and she was worried about his future. After giving it a lot of thought, as far as she was concerned there was still only one answer. Denis was incapable of looking after his son, and surely he would see the sense of letting Tommy live with her. It wouldn’t be easy, but with Sally’s help it would work out all right. She would wait until the funeral was over and then have a talk with the man. Surely he’d see things her way?
When she walked in, Angel came running up to her. ‘Nanny, Tommy’s got an uncle.’
‘What’s this, Sally?’
‘He turned up today and he seems nice.’
‘You like him, Nanny.’
‘No doubt you mean I’ll like him when I meet him, but that remains to be seen,’ Ruth said.
Tommy pushed in to cuddle her and Ruth held him for a while, but then Sally said, ‘Dinner’s nearly ready. Angel, go and wash your hands, you too, Tommy.’
When the children returned, Ruth helped Sally to dish out the food, but her head shot up when Tommy spoke to her. ‘Me Dad’s on the piss again.’
Ruth looked at Sally and she nodded. ‘He was sleeping it off when Tommy’s uncle called round.’
With eyes down to hide her true feelings, Ruth said, ‘In that case, I think you should stay out of his way until tomorrow.’
‘But I want to see me uncle again.’
‘In the morning,’ Ruth insisted, and though Tommy argued, she wouldn’t be swayed.
Later, when Ruth put Tommy in her bed, she stroked his hair for a while until at last he fell asleep. She then went back downstairs, deciding to voice her thoughts as she sat with her feet on the fender. ‘I’ve been thinking about Tommy’s future and I reckon he’d be better off living permanently with us.’
‘Don’t be daft, Ruth, the boy belongs with his father,’ Sadie protested. ‘Not only that, you’re at work all day so it’ll be Sally who gets saddled with looking after him, not you.’
‘Sally won’t mind, will you, love?’ Ruth asked, as she looked at her daughter.
‘No, not really, but I can’t see Denis agreeing to it. There’s his uncle too, and I don’t know why, but I have a feeling that he’s going to figure in Tommy’s future.’
Ruth didn’t like the sound of that and said sharply, ‘Right then, I’d better meet this uncle.’
Still in her tatty slippers, Ruth knocked on Denis’ door and when he opened it she could smell the alcohol on his breath. Were both men boozing, Tommy’s uncle a drinker too?
‘Watcha, Ruth,’ Denis slurred. ‘Are you coming in?’
‘You’re drunk,’ she said with disgust as she followed him inside.
‘Yeah, but don’t look at me like that. I’ve had enough of it from Andy. He doesn’t approve either, but it seems the pair of you have forgotten that I’ve just lost my wife.’
Ruth ignored the barb, only saying, ‘I’ve heard that Tommy’s uncle is here. I was hoping to meet him.’
‘He got some grub in earlier, but then took one look at the cooker and said he’d go out for a meal.’
‘Is he close to Tommy?’
‘He hardly knows the kid. He hasn’t seen Tommy since he was a baby.’
Ruth’s mind raced. Surely Denis would see that even if the boy’s uncle offered him a home, it would be like living with a stranger. Should she make her offer now? She was about to speak when there was a knock on the door.
‘That’s probably Andy. I’ll go and let him in.’
Blast, Ruth thought. She had missed her opportunity.
Denis came back into the room, a man behind him, and even after all these years the recognition was instantaneous. ‘No! Oh no,’ she gasped, ‘it can’t be!’
The room began to tilt and she had a vague notion of him moving towards her, his voice barely reaching her ears as blackness descended.
‘Ruth. My God! Ruth!’
When Ruth opened her eyes she saw Andrew leaning over her, his voice concerned as he asked, ‘Are you all right?’
Her vision cleared, the question bursting from her lips, ‘Andrew! How . . . how did you find me?’
‘Ruth, I wasn’t trying to find you. I’m here for my sister’s funeral and had no idea that you lived in this area.’
Denis now spoke, his expression puzzled. ‘How do you two know each other?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Andrew said, ‘but for now would you do me a favour? Would you go out for a drink or something? Ruth and I need to talk in private.’
‘I suppose so, but I’ve no money.’
Ruth saw a flicker of annoyance in Andrew’s eyes, but then he pulled out a note, thrust it into Denis’ hand and said, ‘Here, but it might be a good idea to stay off the hard stuff.’
Her mind was still confused. Andrew said he was here for his sister’s funeral. Laura! Surely he didn’t mean Laura? It seemed impossible to comprehend. Of all the places in London, Andrew’s sister had ended up living in Candle Lane.
When Denis left, Andrew turned to face her again and Ruth’s breath caught in her throat. No wonder she had been so taken with Tommy. It was so obvious now, the family resemblance plain to see.
‘This has been a shock for both of us,’ he said, sitting down beside her and smiling faintly. ‘Do you know you’ve hardly changed, yet it must be well over twenty years since I last saw you.’
‘You haven’t changed much either. Maybe a bit less hair, but I knew you instantly. You said you were here for your sister’s funeral. Surely you don’t mean Laura? She was only in her early thirties.’
‘My parents had her late in life and there was a huge age gap between us.’
Ruth’s mind was still reeling. Andrew hadn’t come looking for her. Why would he? He had no idea. When Laura’s funeral was over he’d go back to his wife and son in Scotland. If she told him the truth he’d probably be furious and it would only cause more problems, more heartache.
‘As you can see,’ Andrew now said, ‘there’s a lot to sort out, which means I’ll be here for about ten days or so.’
‘T . . . ten days,’ Ruth squeaked.
‘Yes, but don’t look so worried. Denis doesn’t need to know about us, and surely after all this time you’re not worried about your husband?’
‘Husband!’ Ruth blurted out. ‘But I haven’t got a husband. We divorced many years ago.’
‘So, you’re divorced. I’m on my own too. I lost my wife just over a year ago.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Ruth said, her mind jumping again. Andrew was a widower. Did that make a difference? She needed to be on her own, to have time to think. Andrew’s closeness was having an effect on her, one that after all these years, she was surprised to feel.
She rose unsteadily to her feet. ‘I must go, but if you’re going to be around for over a week, perhaps we can talk another time.’
‘I’d love to see you again. Can I take you out to dinner one evening?’
Ruth gulped. ‘I . . . I’m not sure,’ she stammered.
‘Ruth, where do you live? Is it close by?’
‘Live? But I thought you knew. I’ve been looking after Tommy. I live next door. I must go now. I . . . I’ll let you know about dinner,’ and with that she hurried home.
’Well, what did you think of Tommy’s uncle?’ Sally asked as soon as Ruth walked in.
‘He . . . he seems all right.’
‘Mum, you look a bit odd. Are you feeling all right?’
‘I’ve just got a bit of a headache,’ Ruth blustered. ‘I think I’ll have a bath and then an early night.’
It didn’t help. At eleven-thirty Ruth was still awake, unaware that next door, Andrew was too.
With Denis drunk again and snoring in the next room, Andrew was unable to sleep in his nephew’s lumpy bed. He got up and went downstairs, hoping that one of the fireside chairs might prove more comfortable.
He heated some milk and then with a blanket wrapped around his legs, sat dwelling on Ruth. He’d been amazed to see her, and equally amazed to find the old attraction still there. Over the years he’d occasionally thought about her, and though their time together had been short, her face remained vivid in his memory. Compared to his wife, Ruth had been full of fun, her laughter infectious, and she had loved to dance.
As his eyes roamed the kitchen, Andrew’s thoughts turned to his sister. He flung off the blanket and stood up, absent-mindedly fingering Laura’s few cheap ornaments on the mantelshelf. An old biscuit tin, the lid depicting a Highland scene, caught his eye, and opening it he saw it contained photographs, the top one of his sister’s wedding.
Andrew carried the tin to the table and took out the photograph. Laura looked so happy and he felt a surge of pain. She was his sister, yet they had become like strangers. He put the photograph to one side and took out another, this an old sepia photo, cracked with age. It was one of his parents, his mother smiling, looking young, and pretty, but then Andrew’s eyes widened in shock. His mother looked nothing like that now, but he had seen that young smiling face somewhere, and recently.
Comprehension dawned, along with anger. Why had she lied to him? If it wasn’t so late he’d confront her now, but he’d definitely have it out with her first thing in the morning!
Dawn couldn’t come quickly enough for Andrew.