The Letter (12 page)

‘I’m not sure, Mum. It might be. I was pretty vile myself.’

‘She’ll come round, she has to. She’s carrying your baby. Just give her a little more time. Her hormones are all over the place too, don’t forget. She knows you came to see her and she’ll be grateful for that. She’ll talk to you when she’s ready. In the meantime, why don’t you send her a letter?’

‘A letter? Oh, I don’t know.’

‘Think about it, Billy. It’s much easier to say what you mean if you write it down. You can apologise to her and let her know your feelings without worrying about saying the wrong thing. You could post it. That would be a nice touch, shows you’ve made the effort. Hmm? What do you think?’

‘OK, I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m too tired to think about it now. It’s been a horrible day.’

‘One we’ll remember for the rest of our lives, I expect. Now come on, why don’t you help me put up the rest of these curtains.’

‘Sure, I need something to do, come on then.’

By the time Billy and his mother had put up all the black-out curtains, darkness had fallen outside and the streets were eerily quiet.

Billy peeled back the curtain slightly and squinted into the shadows. Already the black-out was strictly enforced.

‘You can’t see a thing out there.’

His mother crept up behind him and peered out. ‘I know. All the street lamps have been turned off. Apparently, if you do ever need to venture outside after dark you have to use a torch covered with brown paper. Drivers aren’t even allowed to put their headlamps on.’

‘That’s for our own safety, is it?’ Billy shook his head.

‘You have to trust the people in charge, Billy. They know what they’re doing.’

‘Let’s hope so.’ He rose from his chair and kissed his mother on the cheek. ‘I think I’ll turn in now, Mum, if you don’t mind.’

‘Of course. Night, son, sleep well. Everything will seem different in the morning.’

Chrissie sat on the bathroom floor facing the toilet, her arms coiled round the seat and she could not imagine anything less dignified. Her boyfriend did not want anything more to do with her and now she would have to endure the shame and humiliation all by herself. The thought of telling her parents made her heave into the bowl again. The back of her nose and throat were sore from the stinging bile and her stomach muscles ached. She could hear her parents downstairs in the kitchen, talking in soft tones. It was impossible to tell what they were saying but Chrissie could guess. Dr Skinner would be jubilant that Billy had left her and that he had been proved right about him. Chrissie froze as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She strained to listen and was relieved that they sounded soft and cautious, more like her mother’s than her father’s. There came a small hesitant tap on the bathroom door.

‘Chrissie?’ whispered Mabel. ‘How much longer are you going to stay there? You’ve been there for hours.’ She waited for a reply and when none was forthcoming, she tried again.

‘Chrissie, love, you can’t stay there all night. Let me in and we can talk about it.’

Still Chrissie stayed silent.

‘Alright then,’ insisted Mabel. ‘I’m just going to sit here until you are ready to come out. Your father is not happy by the way. He’s had to use the toilet in the back yard.’

This piece of news brought a faint smile to Chrissie’s lips. Her father hated having to go outside to use the toilet. She tried to stand up but found her legs had locked into position and she was so stiff she could barely move. Slowly, she uncoiled her legs and stood up shakily, like a new-born foal taking its first steps. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the lock on the bathroom door and slowly slid it back. She opened the door to her mother’s startled face.

‘My God! What happened to you? You look dreadful.’

Chrissie’s mouth was too dry to speak so she simply pushed past her mother and threw herself onto her bed. Mabel followed her into the bedroom, where Chrissie lay face down, her head buried in her pillow. Mabel sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed Chrissie’s back.

‘Come on,’ she encouraged. ‘It’s not that bad. It’s not as if Billy was the one. I mean, he was a nice enough chap, but we always knew you could do so much better.’

Chrissie sat up and faced her mother. Her face was shiny with sweat and tears and her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. ‘I love him, Mother,’ she said simply.

Mabel hesitated. ‘I know you think you loved him, but do you really know what love feels like? He was your first boyfriend, after all.’

‘Will you stop talking about him the past tense,’ interrupted Chrissie. ‘He’s not dead.’

She felt the bile rising again and swallowed hard. She began to shake and lay back on the bed once more. Mabel stared intently at her daughter and then slowly as realisation dawned, the colour drained from her face and she too began to tremble.

Despite her consternation her words were perfectly enunciated.

‘You slut!’

‘There’s no fooling you is there, Mother?’

‘Is that all you can say? How far gone are you? I take it Billy is the father. My God, is this why he left you?’

Chrissie sat up again. Her mother’s nasty reaction had made her defiant. ‘Which question do you want me to answer first?’

Mabel stood up and paced the room. ‘I can’t believe this, you stupid little girl. Your father was right all along about him.’ Her voice rose with each word. ‘Oh God, your father.’ She hurriedly closed the bedroom door and leant against it from the inside. Mabel took huge gulps of breath and Chrissie thought that she might actually pass out, but all she said was ‘I need to think.’

The next day, as the people of Great Britain tried to come to terms with the fact they were now at war, Billy sat down and began his letter to Chrissie. ‘What’s the date, Mum?’ he called.

‘The 4
^th
,’ answered his mother from the kitchen.

Billy carefully wrote out their address at the top of the page and inserted the date underneath. Now came the difficult part. In different circumstances, he would have enlisted Clark’s help with this sort of task; in fact his friend would have ended up writing it for him, no doubt. Billy pushed all thoughts of Clark from his mind and tried to concentrate. With no idea of how he was going to finish, he began ‘My Darling Christina’. He felt the use of her full name would give the letter more sincerity. The words then flowed surprisingly well, and he was happy with the result. He wrote Chrissie’s address carefully on the envelope and added the stamp. Then, tucking the letter into his jacket pocket, he called to his mother.

‘I’m just off to post this letter to Chrissie.’

He thought about putting it through her door but was not ready yet for another encounter with Dr Skinner. He would leave it to the post office and then he would go round after she had had a chance to digest his words. He felt buoyant as he walked down the road and suddenly had the feeling that he and Chrissie were going to be fine after all. His spirits lifted as he patted the envelope in his pocket. Yes, he had been a complete fool, but this letter was going to make everything alright again.

Chapter 10

1973

Tina read Billy’s letter three times before she finally folded it up and laid it on the coffee table. She picked up her mug of cocoa and took a sip. It was stone cold. The emotional day had left her feeling exhausted, but the clammy grey sheets on the single bed were not exactly inviting. Billy’s letter had taken her mind off Rick for a while, but now she felt sick when she considered the enormity of what she had done. She was completely on her own now, but instead of feeling free, she felt isolated. Deep down she knew leaving her abusive husband was the right thing to do, but she was scared of what lay ahead. She lay back on the small, worn sofa and closed her eyes as she tried to put Rick out of her mind. She imagined Billy writing his letter to Chrissie thirty-four years earlier. War had been declared the day before, so there must have been an air of uncertainty, but why had Billy not posted his letter? Perhaps he had changed his mind and called round in person instead. Maybe he had been killed on his way to the post box. Tina shuddered and chastised herself for being so dramatic.

It was almost midnight when she crawled into bed and she tossed and turned on the unfamiliar, lumpy mattress in an attempt to get comfortable. The airless room was uncarpeted and the exposed wooden floorboards were achingly cold and rough beneath her feet. Right then, she would have given anything to be snuggled up in her own bed, even with Rick snoring beside her, for there was something comforting in his presence as they slept. She felt desperately lonely and afraid. She was not used to sleeping alone and every little sound seemed to be magnified. She could hear footsteps out on the landing which seemed to stop right outside her door. The fridge in the corner hummed loudly and the tap in the sink dripped rhythmically. She lay there wide-eyed and hardly daring to breathe as she forced herself to calm down. She thought about the song her mother had sung to her each night as she tucked her into bed.

Sleep my child and peace attend thee

All through the Night

Guardian angels God will send thee

All through the Night

As a child, the haunting lullaby had always been a comfort and convinced her that there were no monsters in the cupboard. It wasn’t doing its job now though and she was ashamed to admit it, even to herself, but if Rick had come knocking, she would have followed him right away, back to the familiarity of their own bed.
Like a lamb to the slaughter,
she thought miserably.

The next morning, having survived the night, Tina felt much brighter. It was funny how everything seemed so much better in the daylight. She washed and dressed and caught the bus to work. As usual, she was the first to arrive in the office, so she put the kettle on and set out the cups for everybody.

‘Morning, Tina,’ called Linda, one of her closest colleagues. ‘Good weekend?’

Tina regarded her friend as she hung her coat up.

‘I’ve had better.’

Linda was immediately concerned. ‘Rick?’

Tina turned away and busied herself with the tea.

‘I’ve left him.’

Linda placed her hands on Tina’s shoulders and squeezed them. ‘About time. Where did you go?’

Tina told her about the events of yesterday and how she had ended up in a shabby bedsit.

‘You should have come to mine,’ exclaimed Linda. ‘What have I told you? There will always be a bed for you at my place.’

Tina turned round and embraced Linda. ‘I know and I’m grateful, but this was something I had to do by myself.’

Linda shook her head. ‘You are so proud, and so stubborn. Have you heard from him?’

Tina glanced nervously at the door as though expecting Rick to barge in. She jumped as it opened, but it was only Anne arriving for work.

‘Look at this,’ she said, as she heaved in a sack of clothes behind her. ‘Found it on the step.’

Tina and Linda crowded round to have a look. ‘There’s a note,’ said Linda. She tore off the piece of paper and handed it to Tina. ‘It’s for you.’

You’ve taken my heart and all my money, you might as well have the clothes off my back too.

‘Who’s it from?’ asked Anne.

Tina ran to the door and looked up and down the street. There, sauntering down the road, dressed only in a pair of shabby grey Y-fronts, was Rick. He never looked back, but Tina could just make out the sound of him whistling as he pulled the leaves off a hedge as he went by.

Tina shook her head.
Jesus,
this is all I need.

A week passed, and then another and still Tina had had no further contact with Rick. In spite of herself, she was worried about him. The passage of time certainly dulled the memory. Tina was in the charity shop pricing up some clothes. She looked up as the bell rang and was astonished to see her mother-in-law enter the shop. Molly Craig looked old beyond her years, despite her usual heavy make-up and blonde, neatly coiffured hair.

‘Molly,’ greeted Tina. ‘How nice to see you.’ Inwardly, Tina winced at the lie. There was no love lost between these two women.

‘Save it, Tina,’ snapped Molly. ‘You know why I’m here.’

‘Do I? Are you looking for a new outfit?’

‘Don’t be so facetious. What’s going on with you and Rick? I’ve just been round there and he’s in a terrible state. Says you’ve left him and he doesn’t know why.’

‘He knows damn well why.’

‘Well, perhaps you could enlighten me then.’

Molly pulled up the stool and fished around in her over-sized handbag for her cigarettes, her long red fingernails making the task more awkward than it should have been.

Tina sighed. ‘Make yourself at home. Do you want a cup of tea?’

‘Have you got anything stronger?’

Tina raised her eyebrows. ‘Coffee?’

Molly ignored her daughter-in-law’s offer.

‘Look, I don’t know what’s happened between you, but I think you should at least call round and see him. I called there this morning and the place is a pig sty. There was a week’s worth of milk on the step, post piled up behind the door and there was a fetid smell about the place. I honestly thought he must have died. All the curtains were drawn and it took him about ten minutes to answer the door. When he finally shuffled down the hall to open it, I was shocked. He looked about ninety and was wearing only his underpants. He’s a broken man, Tina. Surely whatever has gone wrong between you can be put right.’

Tina finally managed to get a word in. ‘Did he tell you that he hits me?’

Molly had the decency to look shocked for a moment and then recovered herself. ‘What man doesn’t cuff his wife once in a while? You must have done something bad to get him so riled. He always did have a short fuse, you know that as well as anyone, you should know how to handle him by now.’

‘You are unbelievable, Molly, do you know that? You are part of the problem. You’ve spoiled him all his life. It’s you who has created this monster.’

‘A monster? My little Ricky! Don’t exaggerate, Tina.’ She took a long drag on her cigarette and narrowed her eyes. ‘Please, Tina. It pains me to say it, but you know he thinks the world of you.’