Unforgettable (19 page)

But seeing how much pain Dolly had endured had shaken her too. Having babies always seemed so natural. Not that Dolly's ordeal was in any way natural, but presumably the pain was the same. Having babies was something you didn't have to think about, providing it was in the right order of things. You met someone, you fell in love, you married them, you had babies. Millions of women did it, so it couldn't be that bad …

She shuddered again, and sometime later, when Dolly was sleeping more steadily, she went down to the dining-room where she could smell the evening meal. Gracie realized that she was ravenously hungry; it wouldn't do for both of them to miss a meal.

Later, she found that a couple of hours' sleep had clearly worked wonders for Dolly. Despite the continuing discomfort in her
belly, she sat up and wolfed down the dish of rabbit stew Gracie took upstairs for her.

‘Well, that didn't touch the sides, did it?' Gracie said.

‘I ain't felt like eating for days now, what with the worry and feeling sick all the time. I'm telling you, I ain't never going through that again for no bloody man,' she repeated feelingly.

‘Tell me that again when you find your one and only.'

‘Like you've found yours? Which one is it this month? Davey or Charlie?'

‘The same as it ever was,' Gracie retorted. ‘And I'm going back downstairs now, before Mrs W comes up to see for herself that you're all right.'

‘She won't. She don't approve of her lodgers getting sick,' Dolly said. ‘Don't wake me up when you come to bed. And Gracie,' she paused, her face flushing, ‘if I ain't thanked you enough for all you've done for me today, you know I'd do anything for you, don't you?'

‘All I ask is that you don't get involved with rotters,' Gracie replied. ‘And that's all I'm going to say about it, so get some sleep.'

All the same, she was touched by Dolly's words. On the surface, she was so tough and worldly wise, but underneath she was as
vulnerable and scared as a kitten when she got caught up in something she couldn't control.

But the worst was over now, and Gracie could no longer resist telling the landlady and the other lodgers of her good fortune in renting some rooms where she was going to start her own business.

‘Good for you, gel,' came Mrs Warburton's response. ‘I always knew you'd make something of yourself.'

‘I haven't done it yet,' Gracie said with a laugh. ‘But I've got some good references from the ladies I did some work for in Southampton.'

Her face clouded momentarily, for thinking of that last commission for children's frocks came the memory of how feverishly she had worked to finish them, with her darling mother lying cold in her coffin in the next room.

By the time she went to bed, she was beginning to realize how very tired she felt. Her own excitement was entangled with the trauma of today's events, and both had begun to take their toll. After checking that Dolly was sleeping soundly, she undressed and fell into bed, and didn't wake up until morning.

‘Dolly, are you awake?' she hissed, gazing towards the other bed, where Dolly's
hunched-up shape was buried beneath the bedclothes.

‘No, I ain't!' came her usual muffled snarl.

Gracie grinned. Back to normal then. ‘Yes you are, so how do you feel?'

‘How do I know when I'm not awake yet! I still hurt if that's what you mean, and I ain't going downstairs to be gawked at.'

‘Dolly, nobody can tell anything. You've just had a bug as far as they're concerned, and you can't stay up here for ever.'

Dolly unravelled herself from the bedclothes then and turned a blotchy face towards Gracie.

‘They could tell I'm upset, couldn't they? And I don't want nobody's pity, nor their questions.'

‘I thought you'd be glad it's all over and done with.'

‘Of course I'm
glad
, but it would have grown into—well, you know. If I'd been respectably married I wouldn't have had to kill it, would I? I ain't all bad, Gracie.'

Tears streamed down her face. She had obviously had time to reflect on what she had done, and Gracie leapt out of bed and put her arms around her friend, wishing she'd never been so thoughtless.

‘Dolly, of course you're not all bad, and I'm sure this is a normal reaction,' she said.
‘But you're right about one thing. It wouldn't have been big enough to have resembled anything at all, and the best thing you can do is to put it behind you—and just be glad that you didn't tie yourself to that awful man.'

She wondered if she had gone too far. Dolly had been mad about Jim, but now she nodded slowly.

‘I know,' whispered Dolly. ‘I think I'll stay in bed this morning, though, and I'll get up this afternoon.'

‘All right. Breakfast in bed for you then. And if you feel like going out later on, how about if we take another look at my new flat, and laying one small ghost.'

It was an obscure way of reminding Dolly that she had told Gracie about the baby in the rooms above the shoe shop, but in Gracie's opinion the only way to get over something was to face it head on.

‘And then we can forget the other thing ever happened.'

‘What other thing?' Gracie said innocently, but with a definite catch in her throat. Wicked it might have been, but in her opinion Dolly had also been very brave to go through with it at all.

Gracie now had the keys to the flat and once they arrived there, she was just as thrilled with it as she had been yesterday. Dolly hadn't been able to summon up much interest then, but she was always resilient. It was hard to believe she was the same frightened girl who had made such a terrible confession, and even harder to imagine she had gone through such an ordeal at the hands of the abortionist.

‘You'll have to advertise your new business, of course,' Dolly said. ‘Didn't you say you did that in Southampton?'

‘Well, I put a card in a newsagent's window.'

Dolly snorted. ‘Not good enough, now that you're a woman of property, so to speak. You've got to start thinking big, to make yourself known to customers.'

‘I don't have any customers yet. I'll be starting from scratch.'

‘And when you're an international success,' Dolly went on airily, ‘I shall be your valued assistant, and we'll both have our names up in lights.'

‘Cripes, Dolly, I thought I was the one who was star-struck! All I'm doing is setting myself up as an adequate seamstress with a special interest in making children's clothes, not some Paris
couturiere
or whatever they're called.'

Dolly was exasperated. ‘You know your trouble, don't you, gel?'

‘No, But I'm sure you're about to tell me.'

‘You always sell yourself short. You ain't learned yet that you've got to fight for what you want, and you won't do that skulking behind net curtains.'

‘Is that what you think I do? I could tell you a thing or two about fighting for what I want—or rather, what I
don't
want,' Gracie said, more viciously than she intended. But she should have known it would bring a glint to Dolly's eyes.

They had had the foresight to beg some biscuits, a packet of tea and a bottle of milk from Mrs Warburton, and by now they were sprawled out on the armchairs in the sitting-room, drinking tea and dunking biscuits.

‘What's
really
decided you to move back to the Smoke, then? I reckon it's summat more than losing your ma and pa. Is there summat else you're not telling me? I know you practically see yourself as the Virgin Mary, so
don't tell me sailor-boy Davey tried it on with you one dark night.'

She was laughing as she spoke, but Gracie was suddenly incensed. Good God Almighty, Dolly had just gone through hell because of some lout
trying it on
, yet she could joke about such things as if yesterday had never happened. It might be the only way for Dolly to deal with it, but right then, Gracie was enraged.

‘You're an insensitive pig, aren't you, Dolly?' she said furiously. ‘I know you don't love anybody but yourself, but I loved my mother dearly, and my dad too, despite everything, and unlike some people I can't brush off certain things in my life as if they were of no importance.'

‘Blimey, I didn't mean to upset you, Gracie! And it's not true I don't love anybody but myself. You know I don't go in for all that soppy stuff, but I think of you as a sister, and I did love Jim—or thought I did.' She swallowed hard as she said the last words, her eyes filled with angry tears.

Gracie tried to calm down. Dolly could be brash and uncaring, but however she was behaving now, swinging from one mood to the next, the fact was that her body had gone through a horrible experience yesterday. There was no denying, either, that right from
the start she had fallen for Jim, hook, line and sinker.

‘You know you have to put it all behind you now, Dolly. Do you really think you could pick up with him again now and not tell him what's happened?'

‘I suppose not,' Dolly mumbled. ‘I ain't given it much thought.'

‘Well, think about it now,' Gracie went on relentlessly. ‘Is he the fathering kind? Would he get upset because you got rid of his child, or knock you about for what you did? If he was the marrying kind he'd have asked you before he did what he did. I'm not saying he didn't fancy you, but in the end he only wanted you for one thing, Dolly. He thought you were easy.'

‘All
right
,' Dolly almost shouted. ‘You really know how to put the boot in where it hurts most, don't you, Gracie?'

‘It's worth it if it's getting through to you.
Is
it?'

Dolly let out a ragged breath. ‘
Yes
. He's a rat and I'm a pig, and never the twain shall fornicate. Ain't that the posh word for it?'

‘It's one word. It would be hard though, seeing the difference in size.'

Dolly looked at her in astonishment and then burst out laughing.

‘Why, Gracie Brown, I do believe there's a
smutty sense of humour lurking beneath that saintly exterior. So are you going to tell me what
really
happened in Southampton to send you scuttling up here again when you had a whole house to yourself to set up in business?'

She sighed. ‘If I don't, I don't suppose you'll ever let it go.'

‘No,' Dolly said, folding her arms. ‘So what's the gossip?'

When she had been told, her eyes widened.

‘My
Gawd
Gracie, how old is this landlord, and what's he like?'

‘He's middle-aged, paunchy, slimy and horrible, and I wouldn't fancy him in a million years, so now that I've told you, can we please forget it?'

The memory of Percy Hill's pawing hands groping beneath her skirt could still make her shudder and feel physically sick.

‘You've been through a hell of a lot in these past few months, ain't you, mate?' Dolly said quietly.

‘We both have. But life can only get better from now on, can't it?'

‘That's the spirit! So when are you moving in?'

* * *

On the train home on Monday morning, Gracie realized she had nothing to keep her there now, except to say goodbye to friends and neighbours, and check with the saleroom on the sale of her things. It might have been reckless to pay a month's rent in advance on the new flat, but she daren't risk losing it, and the Fosters obviously approved of her.

They would be good landlords, Gracie thought thankfully, and now she had to think about her future properly.

Dolly had decided to go back to work on Monday, rather than raise eyebrows at the boarding-house. She was a good worker for all her scatty ways. Apart from the dark shadows beneath her eyes it was as if nothing had happened.

Gracie wondered if anyone could really forget such a traumatic event. How would she feel if it had been her, knowing that what you allowed an abortionist to do resulted in the death of a child?

She shuddered, glad to her core that such a thing had never happened to her—and never would, she vowed. She might appear to be the Virgin Mary in Dolly's eyes, but when she gave herself to a man, it would be in love and marriage. She still couldn't forget the romantic dreams of a man she would probably never meet again, remembering that
in one blissful evening, when she had danced in someone's arms, she had felt admired, if not loved …

The train rattled on its way, and she immersed herself until the journey's end in reading the magazines she had bought on a stall at Waterloo station. Once there, she went straight home from the station, opened all the windows in the house to air it, and then knocked on Mrs Jennings's door. Her neighbour wasn't in the least surprised at her news.

‘Well, it had to come, my duck, and there's no point in prolonging the agony. It was what your mum wanted, so good luck to you. Do you want me to tell old fart-face?'

‘No thank you,' Gracie said with a grin, not pretending she didn't know whom she meant. ‘I'll have pleasure in telling him myself, but please keep it to yourself for now, Mrs Jennings.'

‘You can rely on me, love.'

Which probably meant it would be all down the street in no time, Gracie thought ruefully, but what did it matter? She had told the Fosters to expect her to take up residence in a few days' time, and she meant it.

First though, she went to the saleroom to collect her dues from the sale of the furniture. She was reasonably satisfied with the amount.
It wasn't much for a lifetime of memories, but it would help to swell the coffers, and the salespeople promised to collect the few remaining things as soon as possible and send a postal order on to her new address in London.

She couldn't deny her thrill just to say it. It also gave her the courage to go to Percy Hill's house and knock on his door, despite the way her knees were knocking when she did so.