Forgive and Forget (21 page)

Polly nodded. ‘He was eleven a few days after my birthday. We were both born in April.’

‘And Miriam—’. Leo smiled. Everybody smiled when they spoke of Miriam. The baby who had never known her mother had grown into a merry six-year-old, the darling of the family. Polly had never spoiled her, but the child was naturally biddable and loving. She was the only one who’d ever dared to climb on William’s knee when he came home from work, exhausted and crotchety. But Miriam could always tease a smile out of him.

‘Miriam will be another year older,’ Leo went on. ‘Old enough to do little jobs for Violet. And she’ll love there being a little one around the house.’

Polly wasn’t so sure. Would Miriam, maybe Stevie too, be jealous of a newcomer who took everyone’s attention?

‘And we’ll mind we get a house close by so that you can come in and help whenever you want to.’

‘But I’ll go back to work when—’

‘Oh no, you won’t. I earn quite enough for us both to live on.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Besides, you’ll have your hands full looking after me.’

‘But—’

The dream of becoming a teacher had never quite gone away, not even through the last six years when she’d been forced to care for the family. But now she was being forced to choose between her ambition and the love of her life.

Surely, she could have both . . .

‘No buts, darling,’ Leo interrupted her daydreams. Then more seriously he added, ‘It’s not easy being a copper’s wife, love. You have to distance yourself a bit from other folks and then there’s the shift patterns. I’ll be wanting meals at all sorts of funny hours of the day – and the night.’

Polly threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly, as her aspirations were buried beneath her overwhelming love for him. ‘It would be wonderful,’ she murmured, ‘to have my own home and just my husband to care for.’

‘Never mind would be. It
will
be,’ Leo promised.

The coronation of King George V took place in Westminster Abbey on 22 June 1911, and the country celebrated in various ways over the next few weeks. In Lincoln a sports event was arranged for Saturday, 1 July on the West Common. But to the disappointment of many, especially Stevie and Miriam, who’d looked forward to it ever since Polly had promised she would take them, the event was postponed because of bad weather.

‘Why won’t you let us go, Polly? It’s only rain.’

‘It’s not on.’ Polly ruffled Miriam’s hair. ‘It’s no good going. Nobody’ll be there.’

Tears ran down Miriam’s cheeks. ‘Not never?’

Polly knelt down in front of her little sister, the child who was more like her own than a sibling. She’d cared for her since her birth and felt as if she were her mother. ‘Don’t cry, ducky. “Postponed” means put off. They say it’s going to be next Saturday instead.’

Miriam began to smile through her tears. ‘So we can go next week?’

Polly nodded. ‘But only if you’re good, mind.’

Miriam clapped her hands. ‘Oh, I will be, I will be. And Stevie too? He can come?’

‘Of course he can. That is . . .’ She stopped. No one else in the family knew that at this very moment Stevie had gone in search of a Saturday job with, of all people, Mr Wilmott, the greengrocer on the High Street. Only Polly knew.

‘I reckon you’ll get short shrift, love,’ Polly had said when he’d told her his plans. ‘Mr Wilmott got rid of our Eddie because, well, because he didn’t want him any more.’ She’d no intention of telling Stevie just why Eddie had left the man’s employ. Mr Wilmott might tell him himself, of course, but Stevie wasn’t going to hear it from Polly’s lips.

‘But I’m not our Eddie,’ Stevie had countered quietly.

Polly had regarded the boy solemnly. He’d grown so much in the last couple of years; she still had trouble keeping him in clothes and shoes. But he looked much older than his eleven years and had a maturity far beyond that age too. Perhaps, she thought, if Mr Wilmott was a fair-minded man he would give the boy a chance and not judge him by his brother’s behaviour.

‘Stevie’ll be back home in a bit,’ Polly said now to Miriam. ‘And we can ask him.’

But far more important matters were weighing on Polly’s mind than the coronation celebrations or even Stevie’s job. Violet had no longer been able to hide her condition and she’d been forced to give in her notice at the store.

‘For heaven’s sake don’t wait to be dismissed,’ Polly had warned her. ‘If you ever want to go back, they’d never have you if you get the sack. They’d remember.’

‘They’d never have me back there anyway,’ Violet said morosely. ‘They’ll find out and they’d never employ an unmarried mother, now would they?’

Polly had sighed heavily. ‘No, I suppose not.’

‘I tell you what, though – ’ Violet had brightened visibly as a thought struck her. ‘After I’ve had it, we could pretend it’s yours and then I could go back.’

Polly had gaped at her, appalled by such a suggestion. Really, the girl was impossible. Violet had no thought for her sister’s reputation and would have happily put the blame on Polly just so that she, Violet, could keep her fancy job.

‘Oh no, you don’t, my girl. I’ve given up enough for this family. What on earth would Leo say to such a suggestion and besides, how would you explain an absence from work of about three months at least?’

Violet had pouted. ‘I could be ill. I could get Dr Fenwick to write them a letter saying I was – I was suffering from – from – well, he’d think of something.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Violet,’ Polly snapped. From being sympathetic at first with her sister’s predicament, feeling herself partly to blame, Polly was fast losing patience with her. Since Micky Fowler had refused to marry her – indeed he never came near the house now – and the Longden family had rallied round and promised to look after her, Violet had begun to take advantage of her family’s goodness and had returned to her selfish, self-centred ways.

Polly leant closer as she said firmly, ‘Doctors don’t lie for their patients, Vi.’

Violet stared at her with wide eyes. ‘But we
pay
for his services, Poll. Of course he would.’

‘No, he wouldn’t and don’t you ever dare to suggest such a thing to anyone.’ She lowered her voice as she added, ‘For your information, Dr Fenwick never charged us anything when – when Mam died or Dad was sick. And I’ve heard it said that he didn’t charge a lot of his patients at the time of the typhoid. He’s a good man is Dr Fenwick, so don’t you go saying such wicked things about him. D’you hear me?’

Violet didn’t answer but glowered at her sister as her wonderful idea was torn apart.

The following morning she handed in her notice, telling the head of the millinery department that she had secured a better job.

‘Well, I can’t think where you’ve found a better job than at Mawer and Collingham’s,’ Miss Carr had sniffed.

‘It’s a smaller emporium.’ Violet had elaborated on her own invention, adding slyly, ‘I shall have more responsibility than I have here and the – the owner has promised to learn me – to teach me – how to make hats.’

Miss Carr had eyed her sceptically. ‘And where is this wonderful place of employment, might I ask?’

‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly say, Miss Carr. She asked me to keep it completely confidential.’ Artfully, Violet leant closer and whispered. ‘She wants to get rid of the girl she’s got now and she doesn’t want her to get to hear that she’s being replaced.’

‘I – see,’ Miss Carr said slowly. ‘So you’re giving a week’s notice, I take it?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ Violet said regretfully and this feeling was real; she was very sorry to leave her position. She’d thoroughly enjoyed working in the grand store and would miss mixing with a better class of people than she believed her own family to be. And she said as much, adding pertly, ‘But if you feel you could give me a reference, Miss Carr, I’d be most grateful.’

‘I thought you said you’d already acquired another post.’

‘Oh, I have, I have,’ Violet said airily and then added flatteringly, ‘but a reference from someone like you, Miss Carr, might be so useful in the future.’

‘Mm.’ The woman regarded her for a moment and then appeared to relent. ‘Well, you have been a good and willing worker and whilst you’re leaving me in something of a predicament – ’ she sighed dramatically – ‘how I hate having to train someone new up – it would be churlish of me to refuse you.’

‘
Thank you
, Miss Carr.’

As Violet walked home at the end of her final day at the store, carrying the precious letter of recommendation in her handbag, she couldn’t help congratulating herself on how she’d been able to dupe the older woman.

And now as Polly tried to comfort Miriam over the postponed outing – a special treat for the Longden family – she was worrying how she was going to manage without Violet’s contribution, albeit reluctantly given, to the family’s budget.

Stevie, even if he got the job, would only be giving her a few pennies a week, but every little was going to help.

There was a knock at the door and Polly jumped. When she opened it, she found Dottie Fowler there.

‘Hello, Polly. Can Miriam play ’cos Mam says we can’t go to the cel’brations on the common next week.’

‘Of course you can, Dottie. Come on in. You can both play in the bedroom, but don’t make a mess up there,’ she called after them as they pounded up the stairs.

Polly busied herself making tea for her father when he came home, but she was anxiously listening for Stevie’s return.

He came at last, beaming from ear to ear. ‘He’s given me a chance. A month’s trial he said.’ His expression sobered and he frowned. ‘He said, “So long as you’re not like that scallywag of a brother of yourn”. What did he mean, Poll?’

Polly sighed. She’d no choice now but to explain it to Stevie. When she had finished, Stevie looked shocked. ‘I knew he was a bit of a tearaway. Likes a drink on a Sat’day night and isn’t above getting into a fight now and again. But – but I didn’t think he – he was a thief.’

‘He said he thought it was all right because Mr Wilmott had given us vegetables and fruit that were going off and that he couldn’t sell.’ She smiled wistfully at the memory of those dark, troubled times and the kindness of the man she hardly knew. ‘But Eddie started taking stuff that was still saleable and Mr Wilmott sacked him. He had no choice, but he’s a good man to give you a chance. I hoped he would because you’re nothing like your brother.’

‘No,’ Stevie said vehemently, ‘I’m not.’ He paused and then asked, ‘So you don’t think I’ll be getting any unsaleable stuff? Because, to be honest, I thought that would help us out more’n anything. I mean, I won’t get paid much.’

‘You’ll have to see. But you must only bring home what Mr Wilmott gives you himself.’

Stevie nodded vigorously.

In the middle of the week Leo said, ‘I’m taking you out tomorrow night. Violet can stay with the youngsters. She owes you that much.’

Polly clapped her hands like an excited schoolgirl. ‘Where are we going?’

Leo tapped her nose playfully. ‘You’ll see. It’s a surprise. But it’s not a meal, so have your tea first.’

‘Best frock, is it?’

‘Absolutely!’

When Leo called for her the following evening, they walked up the street together arm in arm, declaring proudly to the whole world that they were ‘walking out together’. Standing in the doorway, Violet watched them go, scowling and resentful that she was forced to stay in when everyone else was out enjoying a fine, summer’s evening. She glanced down the street and saw Micky leaning against the wall of his own home. As he raised his hand to wave, Violet stuck her nose in the air, turned away and flounced back into the house, slamming the door so hard that the sound echoed down the street, reaching, as she’d fully intended it should, Micky’s ears. But Micky Fowler only smiled.

Leo and Polly turned to walk up the High Street.

‘We’re going to the Corn Exchange. They’re showing pictures of the coronation. I thought you’d like to see them.’

Polly beamed. ‘Oh, Leo, how lovely.’

For the next hour or so, Polly and Leo sat in the darkness holding hands, watching the jerky scenes of the procession in London on its way to Westminster Abbey.

‘It’s the King,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Leo, look at all his beautiful robes. Is that what they call ermine?’

Leo smiled indulgently at her obvious enjoyment. It warmed his heart to see his Polly so happy. He squeezed her hand, silently vowing that he would always do his best to make her happy for the rest of their lives.

Then came the Royal Naval Review at Spithead with the ships going through a series of, what looked like, to Polly, very complicated manoeuvres. And finally, there was the royal yacht and the King himself.

‘He does look very grand,’ Polly whispered, ‘but so serious.’

‘I expect it’s a serious business being King,’ Leo murmured. ‘A lot of responsibilities and they say he has a very strong sense of duty.’

‘Just like you, then,’ Polly teased and hugged his arm to her.

Later, as they walked home through the dusk, Leo drew her into the shadows, put his arms around her and kissed her long and hard. ‘Oh, Poll, let’s get married soon. I do love you so. Don’t keep me waiting. I know I said a year, but let’s do it soon. Please, Polly.’