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Authors: Annie Murray

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BOOK: Chocolate Girls
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He climbed up and up. The path was quiet. Most people were enjoying the beach and the rest who came up here did so in order to ride the railway and reach the Camera Obscura at the top. But he didn’t want any of that, the people or entertainments. He soon reached the top and joined the cliff path. At last he found a solitary spot, tucked between two bushes of bright yellow, sweet-smelling broom and flung himself down. It was only then that the glory of the scene burst in on him and he sat panting, looking out, forgetting his confusion for a second. In front of him spread the blue expanse of Cardigan Bay, the line of the coast brown and crinkled against it, like elephant hide. Frances had said you could see Snowdon from up here. He looked round and could indeed see mountains in the distance, against the powdery blue of the sky.

He lay back in the prickly undergrowth and looked up at the leaves and sky, hearing the blood pulsing through his sweating body.

I am a foundling.
A little calmer now, he thought over what Edie had said. It was as if a whole collection of tiny details and incidents began to fall into place. Things he had never questioned swirled round in his mind. Chief among them was a sense of being different. He had always thought that was because he had turned out to be brainy and gone on to the grammar school. People remarked on that – it separated you. But that would have been the same if Edie really was his mother, wouldn’t it?

But there were the other things he began to wonder about. Was that why Grandad Dennis had never shown any interest in him? Barely a word to him? He just thought that was how the old man was. But perhaps it was because he was not really his grandson. Why did they live with Frances? And why . . .? He sat up abruptly as something more solid than the odd look or remark clanged to his attention. That first day he had come home and cried after the boys teased him about his circumcision, he had seen real shock on Edie’s face. At the time he thought she was startled and upset by the teasing, the boys’ nasty behaviour, but of course it was far more than that.
She hadn’t been the one who’d had him circumcised . . .
Something so private, so intimate about her child, yet she had barely been able to think of an answer to give him. And they all must have known she wasn’t his real mother – Frances, Dr Ferris, Janet – all the people who surrounded him. Another wave of fury passed through him, a kind of frustration at being cheated of something, and suddenly he was sobbing, tears running down his cheeks. He sat curled tightly, hugging his knees. The crying began to drain some of the tension out of him, and after a time, unable to think any more, he lay down, curled on his side, exhausted and drowsy.

When he woke the air was cooler. He sat up and looked around, his left ribs hurting from pressing against the ground. The evening was very beautiful, the sea a rich sapphire tinged with purple, the bowl of the sky pale blue and gold as the sun went down. The sounds seemed to have changed, distant voices carrying differently in the late afternoon.

David stood up stiffly. He felt muzzy and his thigh and calf muscles were stiff, but he was calmer. It felt, for the moment, as if he had dreamt the last few hours and all was as normal. He could go back, have dinner with Frances and his mother, forget all that had happened.

But as he began to scramble back down the hill, the awkwardness returned. How could he be with her? How was he supposed to behave now? He loved her, of course. She had brought him up as her child, had always been kind to him. But he no longer knew how to feel. He was a cuckoo in the nest. Nothing could be the same again.

He went into the guesthouse and crept up the dark stairs to his room. He could hear that Edie and Frances were next door, talking in low voices. They’d be worried. They didn’t know where he’d gone. Well, hard luck, he thought, lashing out again. But when he got to the door of his room he turned back and steeling himself, tapped on their door.

Edie had obviously been crying, and he saw how worried Frances looked as well. They stood quite still as he came round the door, as if frightened of him, of what he might say.

‘I’m back,’ he said, tersely. Then he went to his own room.

 
Thirty-Seven
 

‘Marleen – come ’ere, your bow’s not straight,’ Ruby hissed.

She and the girls were standing outside Frances’s gate in Linden Road, decked out in some of their new finery from America, and she wanted them all to look perfect. Marleen tutted and stood with her head pertly on one side as Ruby fussed with the scarlet bow fastened round her swinging ponytail. Marleen and Greta were dressed in identical frocks, brilliant white with red polka dots and full, swirling skirts. Ruby’s own outfit was similarly bold, bright green leaves on a yellow background with a drawstring neck and sleeves.

‘Right – that’s better. Now keep yourselves clean.’

She pressed the doorbell, waiting in anticipation. What news she had to tell! She looked proudly at her girls. At least she could show she could do something right. She always felt like the one who’d been trouble, when Edie lived a quiet, mousey life and had everyone’s approval. Now she was going to show she could come up trumps!

The door flew open and Edie’s beaming face appeared. Ruby took in that she’d changed her hair. For years she’d worn it long, tying it back for work, sometimes coiling it, plaited, round her head. But now she had had it cut and it hung, waving prettily round her face.

‘Ruby! Oh my word, look at you all! Oh, we’ve missed you!’

‘We’ve only been gone a fortnight,’ Ruby laughed as the two of them hugged.

‘But it felt longer! Come on in and see Frances.’

Ruby was gratified by Edie’s excitement. She felt very worldly, now she’d crossed the Atlantic. As soon as she and the girls trooped in, David made for the stairs.

‘’Ello Davey!’ Ruby called to him. He smiled back shyly as he moved away, ignoring Marleen’s pert, ‘Where’re you off to?’

Frances greeted them warmly, and Edie brought tea through to the sitting-room at the back. The window was open and bright oblongs of sunlight lit up the crimsons and blues of the old turkey rug. Frances sat in her chair near the window, a white, crocheted shawl over her frock, listening intently to Ruby’s news while Edie poured tea and fussed round the girls, giving them cake and offering them the old Ludo board to keep them occupied. Marleen looked disdainfully at it, and said, ‘In
America
, everything’s new.’

‘Don’t be rude, Marl,’ Ruby said.

‘Lucky old America,’ Edie said, ignoring Marleen’s tone. Greta, who was more placid, with a broad, blue-eyed face very like Wally’s, got the board out and set it up. Marleen rolled her eyes, but settled down to play, even if the game was babyish.

‘So you got back last night, did you?’ Edie sat down with her tea. ‘Seen your mom yet?’

‘Yes – she came round this morning. No stopping her.’ Ruby looked round at everyone and sat up very straight, unable to contain the news any longer. ‘Oh, I’ve got so much to tell you! But I’ve got to say it – guess what?’

Edie grinned. ‘Go on – what?’

Ruby watched their faces. ‘I’m engaged. I’m going to get married and we – the girls and me – we’re going to live in America!’

She was gratified by the explosive effect of this announcement. Edie cried, ‘No! You’re having us on!’ and even Frances almost dropped her teacup.

There was no stopping her then. All the news poured out. How good Ed and Louisa Sorenson had been to her, so hospitable and generous. They adored Greta, who was their only grandchild, but they’d been very good to Marleen and treated her equally well. Their store on one of the main streets of St Paul was flourishing and instead of living over it they now had a nice big house in the suburbs, which was where Ruby had been introduced to a neighbour, Carl Christie.

‘He’s an ex-serviceman, like Wally. He fought in the Pacific. And he’s so handsome and kind. He’s got a good business selling parts for farm machinery – doing well with it.’

‘Has he never married?’ Frances asked, struggling to keep up with all this.

Ruby saw her doubtful expression. Why did people always have to think the worst and look for snags? She so wanted them to be pleased and impressed.

‘He was,’ she said. ‘But he said the war drove them apart and his wife left him – five years ago. She’s gone to live in Minneapolis or Duluth or somewhere.’ She enjoyed dropping the names of places in. She was a woman of the world, familiar with America – it was going to be her home!

‘Oh, Rube,’ Edie looked dismayed. ‘It’s all a bit sudden, isn’t it? Are you sure about him?’

‘Course I’m sure,’ Ruby laughed. ‘I wouldn’t be marrying him if I wasn’t, would I?’ He was nice-looking and had a good living and it meant they could live in America, that was the main thing. And he’d learn to get on with the girls in time. These things always took a while to settle down. It was going to be marvellous – a whole new life!

She talked and talked about the Sorensons’ shop, the clothes they’d given them, the trips they’d made in Ed Sorenson’s big Buick, once as far as Lake Superior, with Canada just across the other side, and how she’d been to church with them and Carl and they were Presbyterians.

‘But you never go to church!’ Edie laughed incredulously.

‘Well, I do now,’ Ruby retorted. ‘They were all very nice to me and the girls. Some of the families even invited us for tea. Americans are
so
hospitable.’

‘And what do you think of it all, girls?’ Frances turned to Marleen and Greta, who had given up pretending to play Ludo and were sitting listening. ‘Carl Christie – that’s the name, isn’t it? He’ll be your new father.’

Greta said, ‘It’ll be nice to live near my Grandy and Grandma,’ and Marleen made a face but nodded resignedly. ‘Well – if it means we can live in America.’

‘It won’t be all trips and new frocks all the time,’ Frances pointed out gently. ‘That’s only on special holidays.’

‘But we’ll have holidays, won’t we!’ Ruby laughed, stroking Greta’s fair hair. ‘We’ll have to learn to call them vacations like they do over there! Carl says we’ll soon all be talking with proper American accents!’

She chattered on, bringing, as she saw it, a new world to Frances’s hearth, to liven her and Edie up a bit. Bournville suddenly seemed so cramped and dull. You could almost fit Frances’s house into the Sorensons’ living-room! She and the girls left in a flurry of colour and excitement, saying that the plan was that as soon as she could make the arrangements she would be leaving and would marry Carl in St Paul. They’d be American citizens. She remembered just as she left to tell Edie she liked her new hairstyle and to ask after Janet.

‘Well, in the last letter she said she hadn’t been too well . . .’ Frances began. But Ruby wasn’t listening, she’d just noticed that Greta had dropped a blob of jam from the cake down her new skirt.

The three of them stepped out into the warm afternoon and waved goodbye.

‘Come on, girls,’ Ruby said, triumphantly. ‘We shan’t be living in our poky little house much longer, shall we?’

The next few weeks were full of unease for Edie. She felt as if her life was like a table and someone was sawing the legs off one by one until the whole thing was in danger of collapse. Ruby’s announcement had dismayed both her and Frances, though all Frances said by way of comment when they left was, ‘Dear, oh dear. She’s such a hasty one.’

With Janet gone, Edie was even more appalled by Ruby’s announcement – for herself, losing another friend overseas, as well as worrying for Ruby and what she was rushing into this time. But over and above all this, somewhere in her thoughts at almost all times, even when she was trying to concentrate on something else, was David.

That afternoon when he had disappeared along the seafront at Aberystwyth, Edie was filled with the most terrible anguish. His anger and apparent rejection of her felt like the worst moment of her life, worse even than losing Jack or her first child. Davey had been hers now for fifteen years, and now he knew the truth he didn’t want her! She wept for a long time at the end of the prom, oblivious to everything around her. She was so frightened David would just keep walking and never come back. If he was really my child he would come, she thought wildly. He would be tied to me, the bond would draw him to me. But now, why should he come back?

Of course Frances was much calmer, and reassured her. He won’t leave – he loves you. You’ve been his mother. Give him time for it to sink in. When he did come back, sullen, but calm, they ate their evening meal together, almost as if the conversation on the prom had never happened, except that Edie felt so churned up inside she barely touched her lamb chops. They avoided the subject. David even talked about where he’d walked to, about the beauty of the sun setting over the evening sea. But he seemed distant, over-polite, as if conversing with strangers. Edie couldn’t bear to go to bed without trying to speak further to him.

When they had all gone up for the night, she tapped on his door, then cautiously opened it. He was leaning on the sill of the open window in his pale blue pyjamas, looking out at the sea. Laughter floated up from the street.

‘Davey – David?’ she corrected herself quickly.

He turned and looked at her but did not move away from the window. She could not read his expression. It was not hostile, just neutral, waiting for her to speak.

‘I’m sorry.’ More tears came then. She wanted him to come close, wanted his forgiveness. ‘I’m sorry I’ve given you such a shock. I didn’t want to tell you really – I was worried . . .’ She couldn’t finish.

BOOK: Chocolate Girls
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