A Girl Called Hope Read online

  ‘I like having the kitchen facing the lane. I can see people passing and greet visitors as soon as they reach the gate if I’m working near the sink,’ she told him. Nothing about the house was wrong, everything was perfect.

  ‘Now, I have to be off,’ Geoff said wiping his hands on a rag. He offered her the key. ‘You can make a start on any cleaning if you like, but unofficially, mind. Just between you and me, right?’

  ‘Not long now.’

  ‘A week or so, no longer. As I explained, the previous tenants have paid the rent for a few more weeks and I wrote offering a refund and to tell them their gardening tools are here but they told me to leave them for the new residents. It’s best to be safe though, so we’ll wait until the first. Okay?’

  ‘As long as it’s ours before Christmas. I‘m still hoping to change Mother-in-law’s mind.’

  ‘Oh, don‘t worry, you’ll be comfortable in your new home in time to celebrate Christmas.’ He stopped to admire Davy and added, ‘Don’t forget to tell Father Christmas where you’ll be, son. You don’t want him to miss you, do you?’

  It was at that moment that a determination to move in the moment they actually could overcame all other persuasions. This was her life, hers and Ralph’s, and surely he wanted their own place as much as she did? His mother had had a lifetime of making her own decisions, forcing others to agree with her, and now it was time for Ralph to make his. He was twenty-three, he’d fought in a war, and it was ridiculous for him to allow his mother to tell him what he should do. She hurried home through the dark lanes and gaslit streets, filled with a determination that speeded her footsteps and narrowed her lips.

  Tomorrow she would check on the furniture they had chosen. She wanted it to be delivered on the day the house was theirs. She would hang the curtains a few days before, with Geoff’s permission, and the rugs she had bought for the floors would be quickly put in place. Between now and then she would wash the floors and clean the windows so everything was perfect. Then Ralph would be unable to refuse. Marjorie would have to understand.

  Marjorie hated the colour of the kitchen. Hope didn’t mind, she shared a smile with Ralph at her description of ‘gaudy and ghastly’. Marjorie had insisted on going with her when she hung the curtains, and reacted in horror when she saw the kitchen with its bright walls and yellow and white check curtains.

  A few days after Geoff had painted the walls, Marjorie arranged for a local decorator to re-paint them, in a subdued grey.

  Angrily Hope demanded to know why. ‘It’s our house, Mother-in-law, the choices are ours, no one else’s.’

  ‘I agree, up to a point, but I simply couldn’t allow you to do anything so ridiculous as paint the kitchen that awful yellow. Imagine what Ralph really thought. Believe me, he was horrified.’

  ‘Ralph helped me choose it, or at least he agreed to it,’ she said, fighting back sobs. ‘He loved it as much as I did.’

  ‘Trying to be kind, or he must have been too tired to know what he was saying. He works hard, you know, which is why you have to give him a home that’s restful, calm, with peaceful decor to help him relax. Sometimes I think you don’t understand my son at all.’

  Hope felt the excitement of moving into her own home fading, drifting away as quickly as a dream upon waking. Ralph loved her but he loved his mother too. There was an ingrained obedience to her wishes that it seemed impossible for him to shed, Hope recognized with heartaching sadness and a growing certainty that Marjorie would never allow Ralph to truly belong to her and Davy. Marjorie was incapable of letting him go and Ralph was unable to offend her by insisting, supporting his wife when she needed him to so desperately. In this marriage, she, Hope, was alone.

  Perhaps, if it hadn’t been for the incident of the kitchen walls Hope might have softened towards her mother-in-law and given in about moving before Christmas, but that was the final straw. When Geoff called to tell Hope that the house was theirs from the following Wednesday, the first of December, she hugged the letter to her. Twenty-three days before Christmas Eve. It was easily possible. All she had to do was persuade Ralph. Christmas in their own home had once been just a dream; it was now more important: it was a means of establishing herself as Ralph’s wife, sharing his life equally, and relegating his mother to her rightful place.

  *

  Everything was ready for the first delivery and Ralph, who had arranged for a day’s holiday, stood at the door with Hope and tightened his grip around her shoulders. The furniture arrived: a dining suite in light oak and a leather three-piece suite for the lounge.

  ‘Oh, excuse me, but there’s a mistake. We chose uncut moquette in green,’ Hope said, taking out the copy of their order.

  Ralph hushed her. ‘Darling. Mum changed it for a surprise. It was much more expensive, of course, but she paid the difference. She said leather is longer lasting and very smart.‘

  ‘Take it back. It isn’t what I ordered.’ she said firmly to the delivery men. They looked from one to the other and Ralph told them to leave it, that it was a surprise and his wife didn’t mean it.

  ‘Oh but I do. I hate leather. It’s cold, uncomfortable and it’s the same as you have at home. I want warm chairs, comfortable chairs not chairs that look nice.‘ Her voice was raised almost to a shout and Ralph looked most embarrassed. He apologized to the men, told Hope to calm down, and tried to lead her away while the men got on with the rest of the delivery.

  ‘Ralph. Darling. We chose what we wanted for our house and this isn’t it.’ She angrily pushed an offending chair out into the hall and locked the door. ‘Now, tell them to take it back or I’ll burn it,‘ she said.

  Alarmed by the fury of his normally placid wife, he unlocked the door and in hushed tones told them to return it to the shop and restore the previous instructions. In a tense silence the bedroom furniture and the rest of the deliveries were accepted and then, as the door closed behind the men, Geoff arrived with a delivery of household items from his hardware store. Ralph laughed. ‘You realize we have a fully equipped kitchen and nowhere to sit except the dining chairs?’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ she demanded.

  ‘Mine, for falling in love with a girl called Hope.’ He threw a couple of cushions on the floor and invited her to sit beside him. ‘I know we’ll be happy here, and when we get somewhere to sit we’ll be happier still.’ She threw a cushion at him and as he grabbed another and retaliated, laughing, kissing her between blows, Marjorie walked in with Davy. When she asked where the furniture was, they collapsed into laughter.

  There are several kinds of laughter, Hope thought again, as they saw Marjorie on to a bus and began to walk back to Ty Mawr. Happiness and good company produced laughter that lifted the heart. This present laughter was a disguise for something deeply disturbing, hiding the fact that she and Ralph were continually patching over snags and breakdowns in their togetherness.

  The false laughter trembled in her throat and she fought against it, knowing this time Ralph wouldn’t join in. When they reached Ty Mawr and went in to listen to more of Marjorie’s complaints about their refusal of the leather suite, it was certain to break out and offend her even further. And if she gave in to it then, she would laugh hysterically, embarrassingly, and alone.

  Two

  Hope’s dream of spending at least a part of Christmas in their new home was fading away. Marjorie made it clear that the occasion was hers to arrange. Toys for Davy were wrapped and hidden, food appeared from mysterious sources that defied explanation in times of rationing. ‘Favours owed,’ was all the explanation her mother-in-law gave. The house was decked in holly, ivy and a huge amount of pre-war decoration, tarnished with age but giving the rooms a mysterious excitement that thrilled Davy.

  Ralph seemed content with the arrangements and when she tried to persuade him they should at least sleep at Badgers Brook, he just laughed and said that Christmas had always been Mum’s special time. ‘She’s strong on tradition,’ he added cheerfully, ‘and she does everyt
hing so perfectly.’

  ‘But we need to start our own traditions,’ she pleaded, to no avail.

  The house that was theirs stood silent and empty apart from the eerie effect of the few formally placed pieces of furniture. With no sign of anyone living there it would be without warmth, unloved, and Hope badly wanted to bring it to life.

  ‘It’s like a stage set waiting for an audience, or a shop window trying to attract customers,’ she said to Ralph one morning, in an attempt to make light of it.

  ‘We’ll soon make it untidy and lived in,’ Ralph said. ‘Mum will go there with a few pictures and cushions, she knows how to make a house a home.’

  So do I, she wanted to shout. Instead she said. ‘After Christmas then?’

  ‘Probably.’ His reply dragged at her heart. Marjorie was going to hang on to them for as long as she could. Getting her own way was something else Mum was good at, she thought with a sigh.

  ‘Is there any news of Phillip coming home?’ she asked, hoping that such excitement would allow them to sneak away and leave Marjorie to her celebrations, her welcoming of the prodigal son.

  ‘That’s unlikely, which is one reason we must stay,’ he replied.

  One Saturday, when she and Ralph had planned to go shopping, Freddy announced Marjorie’s plan to have a party. ‘It’s something she’s wanted to do for a long time,’ Freddy told them. ‘Originally it was to have been a welcome home party for Richard and Phillip, but the idea hasn’t really gone away. I want your mother to have a reason to fill the house, even though it will only be for a few hours.’

  ‘It will be a New Year party,’ Marjorie explained to them later. ‘We’ll hold it a week or two into the New Year, though, when the celebrations are well and truly over and the weather closes in and people are in need of a bit of a lift. You and Ralph will host it, while Dad and I sit and enjoy ourselves. There’ll be plenty of food and drink left over from Christmas. In fact, I’ve already put some things aside, tins and some sugar and, of course, friends will contribute. We can start the preparations straight after New Year, take our time, then it won’t be a chore.’

  ‘We’ll help, of course, but remember we won’t be living here,’ Hope reminded her.

  ‘Of course you will, dear. You can’t go back to a cold house. In January? Far too risky. It’ll take days of lighting fires before it’s safe to take little David there.’

  *

  That night when they went to bed, which was the only time they were able to talk in private, she told Ralph that he must insist and tell his mother they were leaving as soon as Christmas was over.

  ‘Not yet, darling,’ he whispered. ‘We’ll have years on our own, just you and me and Davy. Let Mum have a few more days.’ This response, this appeal for kindness, this thinly disguised blackmail, no longer made her feel any guilt.

  ‘Tomorrow I’ll take Davy and stay in the house, light the fires, make sure the beds are aired. I’ll do that every day, and buy a few extras to make it our very own, and on Boxing Day we’re going home.’ She touched him, pushed against his shoulder demanding agreement, prepared to argue, but his breathing had slowed and his body was sluggish to her touch. Anger made her insist. Putting her lips close to his ear, she said, ‘Whether you’re asleep or just pretending, that is what I’m going to do. You can stay, or come with us. You choose.’

  She lay still for a while, hoping he had heard and would reach out and comfort her, tell her he agreed, assure her that she and Davy were more important than his mother and they would move as soon as possible. After several minutes had passed, when she knew he was either asleep or had no intention of supporting her, she reached for her dressing gown and tiptoed down the stairs. In the dark kitchen she sat, unaware of the cold creeping into her bones. A creak on the stairs and she didn’t move. It was probably Marjorie. The woman never sleeps, she’s always aware of what I’m doing, even in the middle of the night, she thought sadly.

  But it wasn’t her mother-in-law. ‘Darling, I’m sorry.’ Ralph’s arms wrapped her in their warmth and he held her close. ‘Come to bed, you’re freezing. I’m sorry about Mum’s reluctance to let us go. But if we could give her a little more time to get used to the idea I’m sure she’ll come round.’

  ‘More time? This is our time, she’s stealing our time, yours and mine and Davy’s,’ she said, the momentary relief and happiness of his coming to find her gone in a flash. He’d said just too many words and the brief joy had been destroyed. If only he’d stopped after ‘I’m sorry’. Instead, once again, he had supported his mother.

  Disappointed at the way his apology had been received, Ralph went back to bed, and Hope sat shivering in the cold kitchen until she was sure he was asleep before settling on the armchair in Davy’s room.

  *

  By leaving Marjorie to prepare breakfast and busying herself with getting Davy dressed and fed, she managed to avoid speaking to Ralph the next morning. Explaining briefly that she was going to the shops, she put Davy in his pram and walked through the town and down the lane to Badgers Brook. When she reached the house she found a rooted Christmas tree leaning against the front door. There was a label attached which read: This tree is for your first Christmas in Badgers Brook. Put it in the garden in the New Year, and it will grow and remind you of how happy you are at this moment.

  Hope pushed it aside, dragged the pram inside and howled.

  The coal entitlement she had ordered was in the shed with a load of logs. Someone, she suspected it was her kind-hearted landlord Geoff Tanner again, had chopped sticks and left a pile of newspapers. She had brought matches and although the paper was a bit damp she soon had fires burning brightly, reflecting on the walls in the almost empty lounge and adding a glow to the new polished dining table. Within a couple of hours the place had been given a life. If only Ralph were here to enjoy it with her.

  A knock at the door surprised her. She opened it to a lady well wrapped up in a thick coat and fur-lined boots, a scarf tied around her head. She looked to be in her late fifties and had a smile on her small, thin face that warmed Hope like the sun. She looked at Hope expectantly, waiting to be invited inside.

  ‘I’m Kitty Jennings and my husband, him down there by the gate, is Bob.’ Hope looked to where she pointed and saw the man wave. She waved back as Kitty went on, ‘Live on the lane, we do, and we wondered if you needed any help.’ Her beady eyes looked past Hope and she saw Davy on the floor playing with a small wooden car. ‘Oh, I see you’re in. Welcome to the neighbourhood.’

  ‘Won’t you come in?’ Hope stood back to allow her visitor to enter, then went to pick up Davy. ‘We haven’t moved in exactly. We’re still staying with my parents-in-law until after Christmas. I just thought I’d light a few fires.’

  ‘The rest of the furniture coming later is it?’ Kitty said pointedly.

  Hope laughed. ‘It does look a bit sad, but the rest will be here soon. There was a mistake in the order.’

  ‘Yes, I saw it come,’ Kitty said without any embarrassment, ‘then watched as they took it away again.’

  Kitty boldly suggested a cup of tea might be nice and they talked for a while, and although the woman was obviously someone who liked to know all that was going on Hope warmed to her more and more, knowing she would be a good neighbour and friend.

  ‘If you want me to look after the fires any time or open windows on a nice blowy day I’ll be glad to help. The house needs both after being empty a while.’ She opened the front door and dragged in the tree. ‘Now, I’ve got some tinsel and a few spare dingle-dangles that your little boy would love. I’ll just slip and get them. My Bob is sure to have a suitable container and some earth so we can set up the tree.’

  ‘Sadly we won’t be spending Christmas here,’ Hope began.

  ‘Go on with you! Christmas isn’t a few hours, it’s a season in itself. Weeks of fun, that’s what Christmas is. In fact, why not have a second Christmas, once you and that husband of yours finally move in?’

  Bob b
rought a pan of soup at twelve and they ate it with freshly baked bread. To Hope, her first meal in the new home was a feast, and Davy ate a bowlful and demanded more. He sat next to Bob and chattered in his sometimes indistinct way, with Hope translating his attempts.

  Beside being blatantly curious to know all about Hope and Ralph and the family, Kitty and Bob told Hope a lot about themselves. Bob Jennings was a retired policeman and Kitty had once worked as a typist in a insurance office. ‘Posh job, low pay,’ she explained with a chuckle. Their children were grown up and had moved away.

  The rest of the day was happy and busy as Kitty encouraged Hope to add decorations to the bare walls. The long oak table in the kitchen was covered in paste, paper and bits and pieces of the old decorations brought by her new friend. Even those that were broken were patched together by sticking and sewing, and it all helped to liven the rooms.

  The results were not beautiful, Hope admitted, as she looked around the brightly decorated rooms, and she knew Marjorie would be horrified, but she hadn’t felt so happy in months. She thanked Kitty and Bob as they left, and promised they would meet again soon.

  At three o’clock she carefully damped down the fires, and, still warm from the hours close to the fire, she and a grubby Davy set off for Ty Mawr. She looked back when she reached the gate and thought that, even after such a short visit, the house was now her home, she belonged there.

  They stopped to wave when they passed the home of Kitty and Bob, where a tree glittered in the window. She guessed that Kitty’s would have been the first house in the town to have its windows decorated. Kitty Jennings was without doubt a lady who loved Christmas.

  *

  Several times in the days that followed, she packed a picnic lunch and took Davy to spend the day at the house. She was surprised that Marjorie didn’t complain at her regular disappearances, and disappointed, too, that Ralph saw no reason to go with her at the weekend. The house was welcoming her, but in some mysterious way alienating her from Ralph. They wanted different things and, after three years of marriage, that was a frightening thought.