The Letter (16 page)

Once inside and with a steaming cup of strong tea in her hand, Tina sat at the kitchen table opposite Alice. Her husband, Henry, sat in an armchair by the fireside gazing absently out of the window.

‘He never accepted Billy,’ began Alice, nodding towards her husband.

‘He was not my son.’ Henry’s voice was surprisingly strong given his frail appearance.

‘Shut up, Henry!’ spat Alice. She turned to Tina. ‘We adopted Billy when he was ten months old. Both his parents had been killed and he was living in an orphanage. He was well cared for but he needed a proper home, you know, a mother and father. We had just lost our own baby, Edward, and the grief was…’ Alice swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. ‘The grief was almost too much to bear, but then little Billy came into our lives and…’

‘Took his place,’ interrupted Henry. ‘She never gave Edward another thought after he arrived.’

‘Wash your mouth out, you vicious old fool.’ She looked at Tina. ‘Ignore him.’

Tina was beginning to feel uncomfortable and she shifted in her chair. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out Billy’s letter. She passed it over to Alice who carefully extracted it from the envelope and began to read. Tina stared at her as she read it, noticing the change in her breathing, which had become shallower. When Alice had finished reading she folded the letter in half and addressed Tina evenly.

‘Where did you get this?’

Tina explained and Alice shook her head.

‘I don’t understand it,’ she said slowly. ‘Billy sat where you are now at this very table and wrote that letter. It was my idea, he was never very good at that sort of thing but when he was finished he was pleased with it. He was glad he was able to express himself, tell Chrissie how he really felt. He then went out and posted it.’

Tina turned over the envelope. ‘He didn’t post it though. Look.’ Tina pointed to the unfranked stamp.

Alice shrugged. ‘He never heard from Chrissie again. He called round there the day after he wrote the letter. Dr Skinner was out on an emergency and he spoke with her mother. She knew nothing of the letter but told him that Chrissie had been shipped off to Ireland to stay with her sister and have the baby over there. Billy pleaded with Mrs Skinner to let him have her address and she said she would contact Chrissie herself to find out if that was what she wanted.’

‘So, they did get in touch then? Billy and Chrissie were reunited?’

Alice bowed her head and took a deep breath. ‘Sadly, no. As I said, he never heard from Chrissie again. Mrs Skinner was knocked down by a car that night. She died without regaining consciousness.’

Tina’s heart lurched in spite of the fact that she had already learned of the death of Mabel Skinner from Maud Cutler. ‘That’s tragic. I don’t know what to say. Did Billy ever manage to find out what happened to Chrissie and their baby?’

Alice slowly shook her head. ‘My Billy was killed in action in 1940. He was twenty-two years old.’

Tina sat open-mouthed and glanced across at Henry. He had nodded off in the chair. Alice dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. Tina finally found her voice.

‘I’m so sorry to have opened up old wounds.’

‘You haven’t. The death of my Billy is a wound that has never closed. I miss him every single day. I know I’m biased, but he really was the perfect son. I may not have given birth to him, but as far as I am concerned he was as much my flesh and blood as Edward was. Dr Skinner thought he wasn’t good enough for his precious daughter but the truth is he was too good.’ Alice nodded at Tina’s stomach. ‘Life is precious, Mrs Craig, you cherish every moment you have with that baby of yours. You will never know another love like it.’

The tears ran down Tina’s cheeks. ‘I will, Alice, thank you.’

Alice struggled out of the chair and rummaged through a drawer in the old bureau. She found what she was looking for.

‘Here, this is Billy.’ She pushed a dog-eared photograph across the table and Tina stared at the handsome young man in Army uniform. ‘If you do ever find his child you give them this and tell them that their father was the kindest, bravest most handsome man that ever lived and he would have made a wonderful father.’

Tina slipped the photograph inside the envelope with Billy’s letter. ‘I promise you, Alice, I’ll do everything I can to make sure Chrissie gets this letter, to let her know that Billy wanted to do the right thing. Why he changed his mind and didn’t post the letter, we shall probably never know, but he did his best to get through to her and I am going to make sure she knows that.’

By the time Tina left Gillbent Road, it was six-thirty and already dark. As she waited at the bus stop, the heavens opened and she struggled to put up her umbrella. Mercifully, she could see the bus approaching in the distance and her spirits lifted at little. As it was Friday night, Rick would be going for a quick drink with his colleagues so would be late home. She thought about what Graham had said, but he was wrong. She could see no harm in Rick enjoying a pint or two once a week after work. He earned it, the hours he worked for her and the baby.

As she sat on the bus, the diesel fumes and the bouncing motion combined to make her feel nauseous. She reflected on Alice’s words and was suddenly worried that she would not be able to love her baby as much as Alice had loved Billy. She told herself she was being stupid. Alice had loved Billy and he wasn’t even her own natural born son. Imagine how much she was going to love this baby that she had longed for and nurtured for nine months.

It was gone seven by the time Tina arrived home and the house was in darkness. She unlocked the door and fumbled around for the light switch. The hallway was especially gloomy with its dark brown anaglypta wallpaper and Tina made a mental note to ask Rick if it would be alright to paint it a lighter colour. She felt along the wall and found the light switch with her palm. Before she could press it, a warm hand covered hers and she leapt out of her skin.

‘Rick! Jesus, you scared me. I didn’t know you were home.’

Three things seemed to happen all at once then. First, she detected the distinct aroma of whisky, then she felt her head spin as Rick’s fist connected with her cheek and then slowly her mouth filled with blood and she swallowed and swallowed as she tried to make sense of it all before the blackness claimed her.

Chapter 14

1939

Billy blinked his eyes and tried to open them as wide as he could as he walked down the dark street. He was amazed at how seriously everyone was taking this blackout. Not a chink of light could be seen from any of the windows, the lamps were unlit and a car made its way cautiously down the street without the benefit of its headlights. The inky blackness threatened to smother him. Billy was sure this practice was more dangerous than the threat of actual bombs falling but he didn’t make the rules. He became a little disorientated as he rounded the corner of the next street and struggled to recall where the nearest post box was. It seemed the whole world had changed overnight. As he stood trying to get his bearings, he was aware of someone standing close by. He stopped and listened carefully as he heard a match strike behind him. He spun round as the match flared into life and lit up the unmistakable features of Dr Skinner. Billy was immediately on the defensive.

‘Are you following me?’

Dr Skinner took a long drag on the cigarette and flicked some ash on to the pavement. ‘Where are you off to, then? Not to see my daughter, I hope. I told you, she wants nothing more to do with you.’

‘She told you that, did she?’

‘Indeed, it seems she has finally come to her senses.’

‘Can I ask you something,
Samuel
?’ Billy knew that the use of his first name would rile the doctor no end. Dr Skinner merely nodded however.

‘Why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done to you?’

‘I’m sure you will make someone an adequate husband one day.’ He gestured with his hand along the gloomy street. ‘This place is filled with little scrubbers for whom you would be quite a catch, I expect. But my daughter is special. She deserves someone better than an orphaned, illiterate, little baker’s boy.’

Billy felt surprising calm and even suppressed a little laugh. He knew he was holding an ace card and he was just biding his time before he played it.

‘At least I actually care about her happiness, about what she wants.’

‘She doesn’t know what she wants. I do, I’m her father.’

Billy noticed that the only source of light, the cigarette, was fading. He rummaged through his own pockets for his matches. He wanted to see every sinew, every muscle and every nerve on Dr Skinner’s face when he spoke his next words. He struck the match and his features came into sharp focus again.

Billy could not suppress a smile as he stared Dr Skinner in the eye. ‘Would you prefer to be called Grandad or Grandpa?’

For a split second, before the match burnt itself to the end and Billy had to drop it, he saw Dr Skinner’s face. His eyes narrowed, his lips pursed themselves into a thin line and the vein at his temple throbbed. ‘You’re a liar,’ he hissed.

‘Am I?’ asked Billy. ‘Are you sure about that?’

Darkness fell between them again, but Billy did not need his sight to know the depth of Dr Skinner’s rage. He could feel it.

Dr Skinner clenched his fists and leant on a lamppost for support, his breath coming in short gasps, but Billy was not finished.

‘Oh, yes. My worthless sperm has impregnated your precious daughter. Can you imagine that,
Samuel
, my juices inside your daughter, mixing with hers, creating a new life, your grandchild? I know your daughter better than you ever will. I know every inch of her body, every curve…’ Billy stopped abruptly as Dr Skinner cried out.

‘Help me,’ he gasped. He was clutching his chest as he sank to his knees. Billy stood over him with his hands on his hips. Dr Skinner pointed to the pocket of his jacket. ‘My pills.’

Although he was sure this was a ruse, Billy reached inside and pulled out a little brown bottle. He struggled with the cap, but eventually it gave way and he tipped the contents into his palm. Dr Skinner picked up two with his trembling thumb and forefinger and popped them under his tongue. He eased himself down on to the pavement and leant against the lamppost.

‘Thank you,’ he said and closed his eyes.

Billy didn’t know what to do next. The doctor’s breathing seemed shallow and laboured and Billy wished he could scrutinise his face for signs of malaise but it was just too dark. The street was deserted and there was no way he could carry a large man like Dr Skinner. He felt guilty that he had brought this on, no matter that the old goat deserved it. He knew he had behaved out of character and he silently cursed the doctor for turning him into someone he was not.

‘I’m sorry, Dr Skinner.’

He opened his eyes and regarded his tormentor. ‘Is it really true? You have got my Chrissie pregnant?’

Billy felt suddenly ashamed and lowered his gaze. ‘Yes sir, it is, but I want to do the right thing.’ He fished in his pocket for the letter and held it up to Samuel. ‘I’ve written her this letter. I’m afraid I reacted rather badly yesterday when Chrissie told me the news and I may have said some things I didn’t mean. I called round to try and put things right but you wouldn’t let me see her and then you said she didn’t want anything to do with me so I’ve written it all down. I was just on my way to post it.’

Dr Skinner’s breathing had settled down. ‘Help me up lad, will you?’

Billy grabbed him under the arms from behind and he struggled to his feet. He dusted himself down and drew himself up to his full height. ‘There’s no point in putting that letter in the post now, is there?’

Billy frowned. ‘Why not?’

‘Think about it. War was declared yesterday. Everything’s changed now. The postal system is sure to collapse and that letter will never see the light of day again.’

Billy looked doubtful but Dr Skinner continued. ‘Give it to me, I’ll give it to her.’ He held out his hand for the letter.

‘I’m not sure. I mean, how do I know you’ll even give it to Chrissie? I’m sorry but I just don’t trust you.’

‘I don’t blame you, but it’s your best bet.’

Billy reluctantly handed over the letter. ‘I’ll be calling round tomorrow to make sure she has received it.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’

Dr Skinner took the letter and slipped it into the breast pocket of his green, woollen suit.

Chrissie and her mother were seated at the kitchen table, talking in hushed tones, when Dr Skinner arrived home. They had been discussing the best way to break the news to him about the baby. They heard the front door slam and Mabel reached across the table and squeezed Chrissie’s hand. Chrissie responded with an anxious smile. The sound of Dr Skinner’s footsteps as he thundered straight up the stairs without so much as a ‘good evening’ puzzled and worried them both. Mabel rushed along the hallway and gripped the banister as she called up to her husband. Chrissie stood in the kitchen doorway, biting the skin around her thumb.

‘Samuel? Is that you? What’s wrong?’

She could hear Samuel banging and scraping around as she climbed the stairs. He was in Chrissie’s room and Mabel entered with more than a little trepidation.

‘Samuel?’

He had his back to her as he rummaged through Chrissie’s wardrobe, flinging out clothes onto the bed behind him. He reached up and pulled down the little brown, battered suitcase off the top of the wardrobe. The handle snapped off and the suitcase tumbled to the floor.

‘Damn! Mabel fetch me another suitcase will you, and then arrange to send a telegram to your sister.’

Mabel had a sense of foreboding. ‘Kathleen? Why?’

Dr Skinner stopped and turned to face his wife. His face was crimson, his brow beaded with sweat and the corners of his mouth foamed with spittle.

‘Because that daughter of yours is a little whore and there is no way she is remaining in this house to give birth to a bastard child. She’ll have to go to Ireland and stay with Kathleen.’

Mabel felt faint and sat down on the bed. ‘Samuel, please calm down. I know this is a shock for all of us but…’