‘And I’ve no intention of putting up a green paper blind to block out the sunshine. I shall buy some pretty cotton off the market and make curtains. Do you think we should paint the walls cream, Edward, or can we afford to paper them?’
‘Whatever you wish, my love.’
Simeon and Emily, on the other hand, were finding life on Liverpool Street very different from Seedley Park Road. They were not managing quite so well. For one thing, Emily had to rise early each morning and sweep the shop and pavement outside before opening sharp at eight. This had come as a great shock since she had expected Simeon to do all of these menial tasks. But it was a part of his job to visit the markets and buy in fresh fruit and vegetables for them to sell, and since Bella remained stubborn, who else could open the shop except Emily?
‘It’s teamwork,’ Simeon would say, bringing her a cup of tea each morning before he left at six, to encourage her out of bed. ‘I depend upon you utterly, my dear, as you depend upon me. Fear not, we shall prevail.’
Emily would stand behind the counter in her twin set and pearls and sniff disapprovingly at anybody who dared to touch her apples with no intention of buying. ‘They aren’t put there to be pawed about,’ she’d crisply remark and too often the poor miscreant would hastily depart without buying anything.
Simeon painstakingly explained to her on numerous occasions how the customer was always right but Emily couldn’t quite seem to grasp this maxim. Customers, in her opinion, were an evil who must be endured.
Edward and Jinnie were expected for tea every alternate Sunday. Never to lunch. Emily did not cook lunch. It was, she explained, quite beyond her. ‘Some things,’ Simeon would regretfully explain to Edward, ‘never change.’ During the week, he would get by on pies or black puddings while Emily picked at the odd piece of haddock which he kindly poached for her. Sometimes Jinnie would call in with a dish of hot pot or liver and onions for them. These were treats that they both looked forward to and enjoyed. On Sundays they always took lunch at the Midland Hotel. They certainly couldn’t afford to but Simeon felt it was the least he could do for his long-suffering wife.
At tea time, the four of them would sit around the table eating tinned salmon and bread and butter with whatever fresh salad was left over from the week’s trading, followed by tinned peaches. Jinnie would always bring a cake she had baked specially, knowing that Emily didn’t bake either. There was never a great deal to eat. Not that this mattered as the atmosphere was so oppressive, Jinnie’s appetite on these occasions was always small. Her mother-in-law, surprisingly enough, was not ungrateful for her efforts.
‘What a blessing she is,’ Emily would murmur as Jinnie sliced the cake and handed her a sizeable piece. Emily was exceedingly fond of cake. She seemed long since to have forgotten her initial objections to this girl, a one-time street urchin. But then not only had she made her beloved son happy, she’d also proved to be an excellent daughter-in-law.
Isabella, once their only daughter and Simeon’s favourite child, was never mentioned.
Dan judged the moment to make his approach with care. He’d spent a miserable winter deeply regretting the critical attitude he’d so foolishly adopted yet unable to abandon his pride sufficiently to heal the breach between them. With the coming of spring and the prospect of this bleak life without Bella continuing throughout summer and beyond, he made up his mind that the time had come.
He chose one evening in late June and waited, as he often used to do, in the cook shop for Bella to emerge from the rooms above. For all she now had a much larger, grander clinic, he knew she still spent a great deal of time up there working with Dr Syd, presumably seeing some of her local ladies or making plans for further fund raising. He lingered for an hour or more chatting to Mrs Heap and the women who came and went buying pies, a currant tea cake or half a loaf, eyeing him up and down with critical amusement.
‘You look like you’ve been dug up,’ Mrs Blundell said, commenting that he looked pale as death. Supporting her bosom on her folded arms from which a large basket dangled, she winked at Mrs Heap. ‘It’s surprising what turns up when t’weather turns bad.’
Mrs Heap rolled her eyes ceilingwards, and drily remarked, ‘He’s after a bite of the apple,’ which brought a crimson rush of colour to his cheeks, much to the ladies’ delight.
Bella emerged down the stairs at a run, as always, dashing out into the street and striding away before Dan had realised she’d even appeared.
‘Na then, don’t stand there like a wooden clothes horse, shape theeself.’
Dan was off like a shot, racing out of the door and at once skidding to a halt to check in which direction Bella had gone. He caught a fleeting glimpse of the hem of her coat as she turned a corner and vanished from view. Off at the gallop again, he finally caught up with her, out of breath and startling her by his abrupt and sudden appearance at her elbow.
,
Bella, fancy seeing you here.’ He was glad now that she hadn’t spotted him hanging around in the shop. Much better that their meeting appeared accidental.
She was staring up at him, eyebrows raised as if asking a question, yet she said nothing. Not even hello.
Dan filled the silence by clearing his throat. ‘Sorry to make you jump but I’m glad I ran into you.’
‘You’re not still following me, are you?’ She half glanced back over her shoulder, seeming suddenly nervous. ‘I thought somebody was but ... Never mind. What did you want?’
‘I was hoping for a word.’
‘Oh?’
So she wasn’t going to be make it easy for him then. She was carrying a large carpet bag that seemed stuffed with papers and books but when he offered to carry it for her, she shook her head. Dan gathered his courage and ploughed on. ‘Could I happen buy you a drink? In the Ship? We used to enjoy going in there.’
‘We used to enjoy a good many things.’ She turned from him and began to walk away. Startled, he remained where he was for a full half second before rushing to catch up with her, measuring his pace to hers.
All those months of agonising over whether he should take up with her again, endlessly asking his mother for advice and being irritated when Violet refused to give it. He’d watched events at Seedley Park road, seen her family fall on hard times and face life in ‘ordinary street’. He’d noted how Bella had struggled to piece her life back together, even read the further nasty pieces which had appeared from time to time in the local paper until it finally became clear that Bella Ashton was not pregnant with Quinn’s or anyone else’s child. After a while, the paper had grown bored with its campaign and someone else was put in the firing line to be gossiped over. He’d felt some shame then over his jealousy, though Dan told himself that he’d believed less than half of it, and never once stopped loving her.
And you had to hand it to her, not for a minute had she given up.
Then, seemingly overnight, she’d turned a corner and changed herself into an icon, a popular public figure who couldn’t put a foot wrong. It no longer seemed to matter that some might try to bring her down. The Liverpool Street Mothers’ Clinic had been given the stamp of approval and folk of consequence were falling over themselves to donate to it. He’d felt pleased for her, proud he’d once been able to call himself a friend. Wished he still was.
Now he felt nervous about making this first approach. Dan worried that he’d maybe left it too late. ‘Happen we could again. Enjoy many things, I mean ...’ He stopped, kicking himself for sounding so gormless but all common sense, along with the carefully rehearsed phrases, had deserted him now that he was actually with her.
‘I know what you mean. At least, I think I do, and the answer s no.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You think because the babies are all gone to new homes and I am, once again, unfettered by the responsibilities of children, we can pick up where we left off. Well, it’s not quite so simple, Dan.’
‘
I didn’t expect it to be simple.’ He could feel his confidence seeping away.
Good.’
She hitched the bag higher up her arm but not for a second did she slow her pace. He’d forgotten how quickly she walked, copper hair flying in the cool breeze, crocheted hat screwed up tight in one fist. Perhaps an indication of her feelings? Glancing sideways he studied the smooth line of her cheek, flushed with exertion or emotion, he wasn’t sure which; the tilt of her firm chin, as forceful as ever but adding to rather than detracting from her beauty. How he loved her! Dear God, why had he ever listened to those so-called mates of his? Why hadn’t he taken her word rather than theirs? Why hadn’t he believed in her, stood by her, been the friend she needed? No wonder she’d have nowt to do with him now. He’d let her down good and proper.
‘
I was hoping time would have healed matters between, that we might at least be friends. Mebbe more than friends. One day. When you’d forgiven me like.’
She stopped then to consider him, the expression on her lovely face giving him no clue to the feelings within, but hope was strong in him, refusing to burn out completely. ‘And what about Quinn?’
‘What about him?’
‘You’re not still jealous of him then?’
‘You said it was all over.’
‘And you believe me now, do you? Don’t you still want to know what we got up to when we were together? What I let him do? Or do you imagine that I might give you a taste of it too, now that I’m a woman with a reputation? Is that the way of it?’
‘The only reputation you have now is for doing good. You’re a woman of influence, Bella. One who can
make
things happen; make people sit up and take notice. Nay, love, you know that I’d never think bad of you. Never.’
‘Do I? I’m not sure that I know you at all, Dan Howarth, or even want to.’ So saying she strode away, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the road, and this time he knew better than to hurry after her.
Violet strove to keep her opinions on the differences between her son and her young friend to herself, for all it went against the grain to do so. She appreciated that, if anything, the gulf between them had widened in recent months but it broke her heart to see Dan sitting around the house night after night, mooching about the place, looking as miserable as a wet washing day. When he wasn’t doing that, he was fretting and sulking, or sitting with his head in his hands as if he carried the weight of the whole world on his great shoulders.
‘I seen it coming’, this. What are you gonna do about it?’
‘Leave it be, Mother. I don’t know, do I?’
‘Eeh, thee’s as daft as a tackler. Anyone would think thee’s had thi brains taken out. Thee has to do summat. It won’t fettle itself.’
‘How can I fettle it? How can I ever make it right again? She won’t have anything to do with me. I’ve blown my chances and that’s that.’
Cyril said, ‘Leave well alone, Mother. It’s nowt to do with us.’
Violet buttoned her lip and said no more. Men! Where was the point in arguing with them? She’d sat back all through a long cold winter and into spring, waiting to see how events shaped up, yet still there was no sign of improvement on either side. Violet came at last to the conclusion that her intervention was called for. If the pair couldn’t see what was plain as a pikestaff to everyone else, that they were meant for each other, then they’d have to be told straight. And who better than the lad’s own mother for the job? She wrapped her shawl about her head and went to call on Bella, to tell her, in the kind of blunt language for which Violet was famous, that if she didn’t think on, she’d lose all chance of snapping up Dan.
‘He’s a gradely lad, no doubt about it. Give him a chance, at least. He’s chucked his cap in the ring, what more can he do?’
Bella had the grace to smile, albeit sheepishly. ‘I don’t know, Violet. I really would like us to be friends again but I’m not sure. He let me down, do you see? He believed all those nasty stories about me. Wouldn’t even consider keeping little Holly, so I lost her too. I’m not sure it would be wise for us to - to try to get back to the way we were.’