Women on the Home Front (98 page)

He pivoted about and their eyes clashed across a few separating yards of pavement, both too proud and stubborn to back down or close the gap.

‘Why do you go on about it every bloody time we go out?' He sounded angry and frustrated. ‘I wish I'd never told you about her at all. I want to relax when I'm with you, Grace, not get an ear-bashing.'

‘Is that all you want?' Grace asked tightly.

‘No … but as there's not much chance of that I'll settle for the cinema and a cold beer,' he said, a touch too sarcastically.

‘I wondered when we'd get around to that,' Grace murmured.

‘Well, it's not as if you're sweet sixteen, is it?' he muttered.

‘I wondered when we'd get around to that too …'

Chris stuck the cigarette in his mouth and shoved a hand through his dark hair. ‘It doesn't matter … swear. I know you've had the dirty done on you by another bloke, and you're gonna be cautious for a while about trusting men.' Spontaneously his hungry eyes roved over her curvy figure and slender, bare legs. ‘I promise I'm not like him … I won't up 'n' leave …'

Grace laughed acidly. ‘Only you could turn a conversation about finding your mother into a complaint about me not going all the way with you.'

‘That works both ways.' Chris drawled and ground the cigarette butt beneath his shoe. He glanced up, holding her gaze with his dark, sleepy eyes. ‘You told me it's my decision whether I go to Bexleyheath to look for her, and I reckon you were right, so back off and leave me alone.'

‘Yeah … I certainly will …' Grace replied in a suffocated voice, pushing away from the window and starting back the way they'd just come.

In a few seconds Christopher was at her side, spinning her about by gripping her arm. ‘What game you havin'?'

‘I'm not playing, that's the point,' Grace said tremulously, shaking him off and continuing walking briskly. ‘You're the one behaving like a sulky kid and I've had enough.'

He crowded her back against a brick wall. ‘
I'm
the one acting like a kid? You're twenty-three, you've been engaged, and you're acting like a fucking virgin …'

‘Perhaps that's because I am,' she stormed.

She punched at his arm to move him but he kept her penned while frowning at her.

‘Really?' he eventually said hoarsely.

‘No … I just said it to piss you off, like everything else I come out with.' She ducked beneath one of his braced arms and darted across the road.

He weaved between traffic and caught up with her. This time Grace came to a halt. She knew trying to outrun him was silly and undignified. She waited for a couple to amble past arm-in-arm before she said, ‘I think … it's time we had a break from seeing each other.'

‘You're giving me the brush-off?' He sounded incredulous. ‘Why? Because I won't let you order me about?'

‘I'm not ordering you about.' Grace made a despairing little gesture. ‘Can't you understand that's the problem … you just see it that way?' She swallowed the tears blocking her throat. ‘I think it's best if we have a break,' she repeated, attempting to smile. ‘Perhaps you need to have some time on your own to work out what to do …' Her voice tailed away then sprang again into life. ‘Before I came along and complicated things you seemed certain you wanted to contact your mum.'

‘It's nothing to do with you coming along and complicating things. Me dad's been in hospital, in case you've forgotten. He's not long been home and I'm not going to upset him again by going off looking for someone who was a lazy slut and didn't want me anyhow …'

‘You don't know that …'

‘You think me dad's lying to me?'

‘No … but things aren't always so cut and dried, and I think your mum deserves to be heard.'

‘She's never bothered to come and find me and ask me to listen to her side.'

‘Perhaps that's because she knew what sort of reception she'd get.'

‘I know what fuckin' reception
I'll
get!' he ground out through his teeth. ‘Now I know a bit more about her, I know she's gonna tell me to get lost and stay out of her life!'

‘Well, at least then you'll know,' Grace reasoned. ‘You said Matilda was encouraging you to find her too; if you won't listen to me, I know you'll listen to her advice.'

‘Me aunt wouldn't have mentioned her name if I hadn't kept on about it. If she thought Pam Plummer was worth finding, she'd have told me to go looking years ago. That's what Matilda's like: all fair 'n' square. The only reason she wants me to meet her is 'cos she knows once I've done it I'll never ask about me mum again.'

Grace raised her glistening eyes heavenwards. ‘It's no use, Chris,' she said despairingly. ‘Thanks for taking me to the pictures tonight, I can get the bus back home …'

He gripped her wrist and dragged her roughly into an alley between two shop-fronts.

‘You all right, miss?' A middle-aged man had observed their altercation and was now hovering at the mouth of the narrow opening.

‘She's fine, piss off,' Chris growled without turning to look at him.

‘I'm fine,' Grace called in a tremulous voice. ‘See what I mean about you?' She gave a gulp of humourless laughter while watching the fellow shake his head then disappear.

Chris raised a hand to cup her face. ‘I'm sorry … it's just you drive me nuts, Grace …'

‘I'm sorry too, 'cos you drive me nuts …' Grace sighed. ‘I meant what I said … I think it'd be best if we don't see each other for a while …'

He plunged his mouth hard on hers, curving a hand about her nape to move her forward and prevent her scalp scraping against the brick. He knew he could have her if he wanted to. He wasn't sure why he hadn't, and always courteously brought her back outside her house to kiss her goodnight and ask if she was ready to stay away somewhere on Saturday. It'd taken him one date to discover she was putty in his hands after a bit of clever petting. He was confident that if he eased them a way further up the alley now, and kept up the onslaught, he could take her against the wall, in the same way he had numerous other girls he barely remembered. But he wouldn't forget Grace …

He heard the little moan as he tantalised her mouth and throat with deliberately sweet, seductive kisses. To satisfy his conceit he suddenly twisted them further into darkness and lifted her, wedging himself with practised ease between her parted legs. Her lids flew up and she gazed at him with startled doe eyes. But she didn't struggle and he knew if he was slow and artful he could have her hate him tomorrow.

He tilted his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, then lowered her slowly to the ground. He turned away and shook out his cigarettes so clumsily some scattered on the concrete.

‘I'm just going to get the bus home,' Grace said in a husky, quavering voice. She moved a hand as though to touch his arm in farewell but withdrew her fingers again almost immediately.

‘I'll see you to the bus stop,' he said and set off towards the High Street, outpacing her along the alley by yards.

They walked in silence and stood at the stop together for no more than a minute before a trolley bus pulled up in a squelch of brakes.

Grace gripped the metal pole and turned to say goodbye but the word withered on her tongue. He was already a distance away, striding swiftly towards Turnpike Lane with his head down and his hands thrust into his pockets.

‘I reckon it's time you stopped shirking, you lazy sod, and got yerself back into work.'

Faye gave her husband a frown, even though she knew he'd only been ribbing his brother about his convalescence. ‘Give poor Stevie a chance, will you! He's not been out of hospital that long.' She passed the bowl of potatoes to Pearl. ‘Help yourself. There's more keeping warm in the oven so dig in.'

‘I've told him he needs to get himself sorted out. Bored stiff, aren't you, Steve, sitting about doing nothing but reading the newspaper or listening to the wireless all day long.' Pearl liked her food and she took Faye up on her generosity, liberally spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate.

‘Well, there's a job waiting to be done in the office. I've only got one pair of hands and an in-tray that's spilling all over me desk.' Rob took the bowl from Pearl and helped himself to spuds.

‘Do I get any say in this?' Stevie asked, feigning an air of injury while pouring himself lashings of thick brown gravy.

‘I'm with you, Stevie.' Faye rallied to her brother-in-law's side. ‘It's up to you to decide when you're ready to get back to work so don't let Rob push you into it.'

The two couples were sitting around the kitchen table, enjoying a cosy dinner of steak and kidney pudding and mash, with a few beers to wash it down. It was just the four of them at home at Faye and Rob's as Daisy had gone out with her friends for the evening. It was the first time they'd met socially since Stephen had been discharged and naturally enough conversation had quickly turned to the subject of Stevie's employment prospects.

‘Seriously, mate, you know the job's there waiting for you as soon as you're feeling up to it.' Rob tucked into his food but continued sending enquiring glances his brother's way.

‘Yeah, thanks, I am grateful, it's just …' Stevie sighed. ‘It's true I'm bored stiff at home, but … no offence, I reckon I'll be bored stiff pushing papers around 'n' all. It just ain't me, sitting behind a desk all day long. I know it'll drive me crackers.'

Rob looked surprised. He knew his brother was not in a position financially to give up work altogether. Stephen needed an income more than ever now it looked likely Chris might soon announce he and Grace were setting up home together. But, judging by the way his brother was still limping about, Rob didn't think Stephen was fit enough for manual work. ‘You want to go back on the tools?' he asked with a frown.

‘Nah … don't think I'm up to climbing ladders any more,' Stephen admitted. He forked some tender beef into his mouth, savouring it before adding, ‘To be honest the thought of going up a high reach again gives me the shivers.'

‘Well, if you make sure this time it's one with rungs that ain't worn through …' his brother commented dryly.

‘Shut up and leave Steve alone.' Faye pointed her knife at her husband.

‘Anyhow, Chris is doing a better job of supervising the lads than me.' Stephen added to his reasons for giving up his job with Wild Brothers. While he'd been at home he'd been doing some thinking and had come up with the idea that he'd like to start a little business of his own. He hadn't yet mentioned anything about it to Pearl because he was still mulling over possibilities. He was an experienced driver and knew he could start doing van deliveries. He had thought of asking Rob to give him a contract for taking some of his merchandise from the warehouse to market pitches. But he knew, much as he appreciated what his older brother had done for him over the years keeping him in cash and sound advice, he'd like to step out from Rob's shadow before he got too much older. He wanted to earn a living in a job where he wasn't relying on his brother for employment but pulled in clients won on his own merit.

‘Tell you what,' Pearl suddenly piped up. ‘That suet pudding you did earlier in the week were a treat, Stevie. I reckon you could knock 'em up in your kitchen and flog 'em at a profit.' She started to chuckle, tucking into her food.

‘I've tasted your suet pud and it ain't half bad.' Rob nodded his head in agreement.

Stephen continued eating, looking thoughtful. He enjoyed cooking and knew he had a flair for it. Even when rationing had been at its height, he'd been inventive and had managed to knock together some tasty grub for himself and Chris. But it had never occurred to him before that there might be a profit in it.

‘That's not a bad suggestion,' Faye suddenly said, taking the words from Stephen's mouth and glancing about at them all. ‘I know I'd pay good money to eat something you'd cooked, Steve. You're a natural.'

‘Don't want to get stuck indoors tied to yer own kitchen sink, do you?' Rob sounded dubious about the idea.

‘No … but I wouldn't mind a little premises,' Stephen said slowly, putting down his knife and fork and looking serious. ‘Suit me down to the ground, that would, having me own caff. Wouldn't need to be anything big 'n' fancy, just a cosy place to do afternoon teas and perhaps a few plain dinners. Got to keep costs down or no bugger would be able to afford to come in and eat. Except you, of course.' He grinned at his brother.

‘Well, if you reckon it's a goer, and you can find a property that seems about right, I'll stump up for the first year's rent while you get on your feet.' Rob noticed Steve about to decline his offer. He hadn't realised until he'd had that talk with Chris following Stevie's accident just how fed up his brother was with feeling beholden to him. Stephen was now keen to be his own man and Rob admired him for it. ‘'Course, it'll be a loan and you can repay me any time you like. Won't charge much in interest.'

Stephen gazed gratefully at his brother. ‘I'd pay you something off the loan as soon as I started to make a profit,' he vowed gruffly.

‘Yeah, I know,' Rob said, businesslike. ‘Can do it official, if you like, through the books.'

‘Well, no need to go mad,' Stephen returned, grinning.

‘I'm interested, if you want any help,' Pearl suddenly burst out in an enthusiastic tone. ‘Me boss in the chemist's is always telling me I'm a natural with the customers. Got the gift of the gab, so he says, and keep 'em coming back.' She barely paused before rattling on, ‘If you like, Stevie, you can do the cooking and I'll do the waitressing and clearing up. I could take the orders and man the till. Don't mind doing all the shopping too …' Her round pink cheeks were glowing in excitement. ‘I've got a little bit saved, and I'd like to invest it if you'll let me.'