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Authors: Margaret Thornton

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BOOK: Remember Me
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It was quite pleasant, though, this feeling of euphoria. It was as though she was in a dream, starting to lose touch with reality. Part of her mind was warning her, however, that it would not do for her to lose control. She managed to get a grip of herself before it was too late, realising that she had imbibed rather too much. She had seen men – and women, too – the worse for drink, and she realised how easy it would be to allow that to happen.

She focused on the food on her plate, taking a good drink of the water that the waiter had poured out at the same time as the wine. She was not aware, at that moment, of Samuel watching her carefully. He, too, knew that she had drunk quite enough to make her mellow. Any more might prove dangerous and he wanted to avoid, at all costs, an inebriated young woman on his hands. The way she was at the moment, though, she might be ready, later, for a spot of fun…

‘How is Patrick?’ he asked casually. ‘You mentioned him earlier. Is he still working for your father’s firm?’

‘Yes, of course. It’s a job for life,’ she replied. Then she laughed, realising how odd that might sound. ‘If you can call undertaking a job for life, but you know what I mean. Actually, it’s still my grandfather’s firm until…well, until such time as it passes to my father.’ But she did not want to think
about a time when her beloved grandfather would not be there. ‘It’s still called “Isaac Moon and Son”.’

‘A strange sort of career for a young man,’ Samuel observed. ‘Does Patrick really enjoy it, or is he just doing it because he feels he must?’

‘It’s what he has always done, what he always knew he would do when he left school,’ replied Maddy. ‘He never complains. Besides, it’s an important job and somebody has to do it,’ she added, somewhat indignantly. ‘And our Patrick has the right temperament for it. He never lets it get him down. He’s still as cheerful and carefree as ever.’

‘They didn’t expect you to go into the business, then, when you left school?’ asked Samuel.

‘No; my father knew it would not be what you might call my cup of tea.’ She grinned. ‘I remember how horrified Jessie was when she first found out what my parents did for a living. My mother used to help out as well, you know…with the laying-out; but I’m glad to say that Dad never expected me to do so.’

‘And my mother is not involved either, thank goodness,’ said Samuel.

‘Not in the undertaking side of the business, no,’ said Maddy. ‘But Aunty Faith has taken over as manageress of the gown shop that my father owns. I still call her Aunty Faith,’ she added. ‘Old habits die hard. Perhaps you’ll be going to see them soon, will you?’ she asked cautiously. ‘During your Easter holiday, maybe?’

‘I don’t know; I might,’ he answered, sounding as though he was not very keen on the idea. ‘Now, are you ready for a dessert? They do the most delicious Queen’s Pudding. That’s what I shall have. Shall I order the same for you?’

‘No,’ said Maddy decidedly. ‘I’m going to have Yorkshire curd tart. My mother used to make it and it reminds me of home.’

Samuel nodded but made no comment. After the dessert they drank dark coffee from tiny cups. Maddy thought it had a bitter taste, but it helped to clear some of the wooziness from her head.

‘Ready now?’ asked Samuel when he had paid the bill. ‘Is it to be my place or yours?’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, feeling a gust of refreshingly cool air blow over her as they stepped outside. ‘You’re going to see me home, aren’t you? I mean…back to my digs?’

‘Eventually,’ smiled Samuel. ‘But I thought you might like to come and see where I hang out first. It’s not very far; and of course I’ll see you back safely, later on.’

‘All right then,’ she said, taking his arm again as they walked back along Briggate and the Headrow, and then into Woodhouse Lane.

‘We’ll catch a tram back later,’ Samuel told her, ‘to City Square. You’re not far from there, are you?’

‘No, very near. But I mustn’t be too late getting back. The others might worry, especially Letty and Susannah.’

‘You tell them you’re a big girl now,’ said Samuel, a trifle brusquely. ‘Anyway, the night’s still young.’

As Samuel had said, his lodgings were about ten minutes’ walk away from the city centre, in a large three-storeyed house in a side street, near to the university buildings where he was studying. Maddy’s first impression was that the house, from the outside at least, looked shabby and uncared-for, with peeling paintwork and grimy windows. He had told her as they walked from the restaurant how he and his friend, Mark, had lodged with a middle-aged woman for the first two years of their course. She had provided them with breakfast and an evening meal, which they had greatly appreciated. Obviously neither of them had been used to fending for themselves, thought Maddy. This year, however, for their final year, the two of them had decided to go it alone. They had found that lodging with the motherly, but over-fussy, Mrs Giles had not allowed them as much freedom as they might wish for. They were now sharing a flat with a third young man and, despite having to look after themselves, they were enjoying the independence this gave them.

Samuel opened the door with his key and led her into the dark hallway. She was surprised when he pressed a switch to turn on the electric light. The majority of houses and homes were still lit by gas. They must have a very enterprising landlord, or landlady, despite the shabbiness of the property.
They must also, she surmised, be paying a pretty high rent; the other two young men, no doubt, had fathers who were comfortably off, as was Samuel’s father. The naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling was of a low wattage, illuminating only dimly the hallway and stairs. The woodwork was dark brown, the wallpaper an indiscriminate pattern of brown and beige and the carpet was threadbare in parts. A far cry from what Samuel had been accustomed to in his home in York, thought Maddy, or, indeed, in the house in Scarborough which he could now call home…if he wished to do so.

The flat shared by Samuel and his two friends, whom he referred to as Mark and Jeremy, was on the first floor. He opened the door with a second key and, again, switched on the electric light. This time the light bulb, protected by a glass globe, revealed a room that was, to Maddy’s eyes, not at all bad; much better than she had been led to expect from the dingy and dismal exterior; and much better, she guessed, than the lodgings occupied by the vast majority of students. The room was spacious, furnished with a three-piece suite covered in dark brown moquette, enlivened with cushions of a brown, orange and yellow paisley design, which colours were repeated in the – somewhat worn – carpet square and the window curtains. There was a fold-down table and four sturdy dining chairs with leatherette seats, and an old-fashioned
Victorian sideboard with a mirror and a carved design of leaves and flowers. The top was covered with books, folders and piles of papers, and more books – appertaining to their respective studies, Maddy surmised – filled two sets of bookshelves.

Samuel strode across the room to draw the curtains. Then, ‘Why don’t you take off your jacket?’ he said, opening another door, which led to the bedroom. Maddy caught a glimpse of a double bed covered with a folkweave counterpane and, a few feet away from it, a smaller bed that looked like a camp bed. She hesitated in the doorway; this was strange territory to her, to be standing on the threshold of a bedroom shared by three young men.

‘Come along,’ said Samuel, smiling at her discomfiture. She felt like a frightened rabbit and no doubt Samuel knew it. ‘Slip your jacket off, or else you won’t feel the benefit of it when you go out again… That’s what my mother always used to say,’ he added with a chuckle.

‘She still does,’ replied Maddy, taking off her jacket and handing it to him; she was wearing a white cotton blouse beneath it. She took off her little hat as well, pinning the hat-pin to it securely. Samuel placed them on the nearest bed and then closed the door again.

‘That is where we sleep,’ he said, ‘obviously. The big bed is much more comfortable than the small one, so we take it in turns to sleep in it, week and week about. And this is the kitchen.’ He opened
another door which revealed a small room, not much bigger than a cubbyhole. Maddy could see a gas stove, an earthenware sink and a small glass-fronted cupboard. She guessed that there would not be room to swing the proverbial cat.

‘And down the passage there’s the bathroom, with all the usual requisites. Would you care to use the bathroom now?’ he asked politely.

‘Er…yes, please,’ replied Maddy, a little selfconsciously. What he was really asking was did she want to use the toilet, and that was embarrassing. She felt herself blushing, but the butterflies dancing away in her tummy told her it would be as well to avail herself of the opportunity.

‘First door on the right,’ he said. ‘I hope it’s been left nice and tidy. We share it with the occupants of the other flat, across the landing.’

The lavatory was as large as a throne, the white porcelain decorated with a design of blue flowers, and it had a mahogany seat and lid. The bath, also, was encased in mahogany and looked almost as though one would need a stepladder to climb into it. Maddy held her hands beneath the brass taps of the washbasin, noting that the soap was pink carbolic and the towels were all of a manly striped design.

‘Come along and make yourself at home,’ said Samuel when she re-entered the room. ‘I’ll just nip along to the bathroom and then I’ll be with you in a jiffy.’

Maddy sat down on the settee, then thought better of it and moved across to an armchair. She didn’t want it to look as though she was inviting Samuel to come and sit next to her. In fact, now that she was alone with him she was beginning to feel a little ill at ease. It was the first time she had been completely alone with him, apart from those few moments at Christmas time, and there was something that was puzzling her.

‘Where are your friends?’ she asked when he came back into the room. ‘Mark and…Jeremy, did you say?’

‘They’re not here,’ he grinned. ‘Why? Were you expecting to meet them?’

‘Well… Yes, I suppose so. I mean…I don’t know,’ faltered Maddy. ‘They live here, don’t they? And it’s quite late.’

Samuel laughed. ‘Oh, we respect one another’s privacy. Anytime one of us wants to…to entertain a guest, then the others know to make themselves scarce. I told them I was taking a young lady out for supper, and bringing her back afterwards. I didn’t say that you were my sister. But then…you’re not really, are you?’ He narrowed his eyes, looking at her in a quizzical, sort of teasing, manner. ‘We made up our minds about that, didn’t we?’

Maddy smiled, a little foolishly, not knowing how to reply.

‘Shall I make us some coffee?’ he asked, taking a step towards the kitchen. ‘It’s amazing what I’ve
learnt to do since I’ve been looking after myself.’

‘Er…I don’t think so,’ replied Maddy. ‘We’ve just had some, haven’t we? And I don’t usually drink coffee at night in case it keeps me awake.’

‘And that would never do, would it? You need your beauty sleep… Actually, I was hoping you would say no. I don’t want any either.’ He grinned at her, flopping himself down on the settee with his long legs sprawled out in front of him. ‘Now, how about you coming to sit next to me?’

She hesitated, although she was not sure why. ‘I’m…I’m all right here,’ she said. ‘I can see you better from here while we’re talking. And I’m sure you want to know what’s going on at home, don’t you? With Jessie and Tommy and Tilly and…and your mother?’

‘If you want to tell me,’ he replied, ‘and it sounds as though you do, then I’m all ears. But come and sit here, for goodness’ sake Maddy. Why are you going all coy on me?’

She didn’t answer, but feeling a little worried at the sharpness of his tone she did as she was bid. He put his arm casually around her shoulders.

‘That’s better. Now…tell me all the news from Scarborough.’ She told him that his sister, Jessica, was coming to the end of her course at the clerical college and, come the summer, would be seeking a position as a shorthand typist. William Moon, with all his contacts, should be able to help her with that. And Tommy and Tilly seemed happy enough at
their private school in the South Bay area. Maddy and Patrick Moon had attended the local board school, as had their parents before them, both leaving at the age of thirteen; but the Barraclough children had been used to private tuition in York, and so had continued with this in Scarborough when their mother had married William.

‘Very good…’ said Samuel, sounding mildly amused at Maddy’s chatter. ‘And how about you? You are enjoying being a – what are you called? – a Melody Maker? I was very proud of you, you know, when I saw you up there on the stage this evening.’

‘Were you really?’ said Maddy, smiling delightedly up at him and feeling his arm drawing her closer. ‘Yes, I’m enjoying it ever so much. I’ve been to all sorts of places I’d never been to before: Manchester and Liverpool and Leeds; and at Easter we’re going to Blackpool!’

‘That sounds really too, too exciting,’ said Samuel. Teasingly, he touched her nose with his fingertip then, holding her by her arms, he lowered his head to hers and their lips met in an exploratory kiss, gentle at first, his lips brushing softly against hers, then more lingeringly as he held her tightly against him. She felt herself responding, her mouth opening beneath his.

He drew away from her for a moment. ‘That’s quite enough talking for the moment… Madeleine,’ he murmured. Then he kissed her
again. She felt his teeth hard against her lips, and then, startlingly, his tongue pushing against hers, probing further into her mouth. She pulled back; this was strange to her, but then, as he continued to kiss her, not releasing his hold on her, she felt herself giving way to the ardour of his embrace. This was what she had been waiting for, for so long, she thought, as she felt the warmth and moistness of his lips and tongue, then his hand stroking her hair, her neck and then…her breasts. She gave an involuntary start, pulling away from him a little, but he did not stop nor draw back. His fingers were tugging at the buttons of her blouse, then she became aware of his other hand touching her thigh, fondling the soft skin above the top of her silk stocking. And she felt a tingling, a strange sensation in that region…

BOOK: Remember Me
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