The Dover Cafe Under Fire, page 26
Pulling open a drawer in a desk by the window, Bill started to sift through some papers, while Edie opened a door that led to the bedroom. As with the sitting room, it was very neat with no clutter. A clothes rail by the wall was hung with suits, the colours going from black to blue to grey, and a small selection of hats was lined up on the shelf above it. Beneath the rail were his shoes. She ignored these, making straight for the bedside table and pulling open a drawer. There were cufflinks and two slim books. She pulled them out.
‘Hey, Bill, look at these.’
He came through. ‘Fascism for the Million and The Great Britain. What did I tell you? My dad is an out and out fascist.’
‘But it’s not illegal to own these, is it?’
‘Maybe not, but they didn’t put that Oswald Moseley in prison and ban his political party for nothing. And the fact that he has these proves who he is.’
‘I never doubted that. But I’m not sure these books are enough to help us. Have you found anything?’
‘A few letters. One from a man called Admiral Domvile. Never realised my dad was so well connected. But I suppose he might have come across him in the last war.’
‘What does it say?’
‘Nothing. Just thanks him for his help and wishes him luck in his latest endeavour. But I’ve no idea what that help might have been, or what his endeavour is. I’ve pocketed it anyway, just in case.’
‘Nothing else?’
‘No.’
Just then they heard a clatter of footsteps coming up the stairs and Edie went to stand beside Bill as they both watched the door with wide eyes.
‘You must think I’m stupid.’ It was Elspeth Fanshawe.
‘Look, Mrs Fanshawe, I apologise. But like I said, I urgently need to speak to my father. He wouldn’t mind me waiting for him here.’
Elspeth’s eyes wandered round the bedroom, falling on the open drawer, the papers on the bed. ‘And would he not mind you searching his private property? Jones!’ she called.
The butler entered with a man wearing dirty overalls who was clearly a gardener. ‘Escort these people out.’
‘Wait!’ Bill shouted. ‘Did you know my dad’s a fascist?’
Elspeth glanced over her shoulder with a look of disdain. ‘Unlike our government, this family doesn’t police the thoughts of its staff. In the short time he’s been here your father has proved himself to be both competent and loyal. Now, gentlemen, do your job.’ She nodded at the butler, who stepped forward to grasp Bill’s arm.
Bill shook him off angrily. ‘Fine, we’ll go.’ He threw the books on the bed. ‘But we’ll be back. We have some questions for him.’
He stalked from the room, followed closely by Edie. As she passed Elspeth, the other woman grabbed her arm. ‘By the way, slut,’ she hissed, ‘tell your sister that if she thinks her filthy little brat will get one penny out of this family now that Ernest is dead, then she’ll have a fight on her hands. And I don’t think she’ll enjoy it.’ She smiled nastily.
The woman’s touch made Edie’s insides quake, but she refused to let it show. So, raising her chin, she lifted Elspeth’s hand from her arm and dropped it, pointedly wiping her hand on her jacket. Then she looked her straight in the eye. ‘Filthy brat? You mean your husband’s son? A son you failed to provide him with.’ She laughed slightly. ‘Donny is a Fanshawe by blood, whereas you’re nothing but a parasite with a deranged criminal for a husband. So I think you need to be very careful what you say, because we both know who’s got a fight on their hands. And it’s not my sister.’
She turned and clattered down the stairs after Bill, her legs shaking.
Bill didn’t say a word as he started the car and they bounced back down the mud track, and Edie was grateful. Coming face to face with Elspeth had brought back all the old feelings of humiliation and betrayal and she was finding it hard to hold back the tears.
Finally, though, Bill said, ‘You going to tell me what all that was about? Cos it sounded a bit more than you having an affair with her husband.’
Edie sighed, realising that Bill had no idea that Henry was Donald’s father. Nor that Ernest Fanshawe had cut Henry out of his will, instead leaving Henry’s share in the Fanshawe Brewery to any children he might have – i.e. Donny.
Taking a deep breath, she explained everything that had happened the previous summer, including how Henry had kidnapped Don, then abandoned him at Hester’s house – she didn’t mention it was a brothel, though; it was embarrassing enough talking about her and Marianne’s tangled romantic history with Henry Fanshawe, without bringing a brothel into it as well.
When she’d finished, Bill blew out a long breath. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘Life’s never dull round you, is it?’
Edie didn’t reply.
‘So let me get this straight: you had an affair with Fanshawe, which exposed your sister’s deepest secret, turned the bloke into a criminal, got him cut out of his dad’s will and made his wife your sworn enemy. Which in turn means she’s never going to let us near the place again.’
‘You can’t blame me for the fact that your dad is a stinking fascist!’ Edie snapped. His words hurt, though. Because he was right in one way. It was all her fault. It always had been. Yes, Henry had deceived her, but there had been plenty of warning signs.
Silence descended again and Edie stared out at the sheep dotted about on the hills, wondering vaguely whether the shells and bombs ever bothered them. Looking at them now, grazing peacefully, anyone would think life was normal, that Dover was safe, and the war to end all wars had brought eternal peace.
Finally, Bill sighed. ‘Of course I don’t blame you. But what now? Any suggestions how we might find Dad?’
Edie was still too angry to reply.
‘What about that lawyer bloke you mentioned? You reckon he’ll be back?’ Bill continued.
Edie shrugged. ‘He might be,’ she managed, hanging on to her temper with an effort.
‘Then let’s go see him. Where does he live?’
She shrugged again.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, stop acting like a spoilt brat just cos I told a few home truths.’
Edie turned to him, her eyes sparkling with rage. ‘You know what, Bill? If it wasn’t for your uncle, I’d get out of this car right now and walk the rest of the way and sod you!’
He slammed his foot on the brakes and leant over to open her door. ‘Be my guest! I’d rather do this on my own than have to go any further with a stupid little girl who can’t admit to her own mistakes!’
‘Fine!’ Edie snapped, getting out of the car and slamming the door as hard as she could. Then she watched as Bill drove off at speed and disappeared over the hill.
Good, she thought mutinously. She’d never liked him anyway. Putting her hands in her pockets and hunching her shoulders, she began the long walk home.
Chapter 48
Nellie woke suddenly and lay still for a moment, trying to work out why she had such a God-awful headache. Then as the events of the evening before came back her face broke into a grin. Jasper could see! It was a miracle. And not only that, but she had the prospect of another grandchild to look forward to. This time, though, she’d be able to celebrate its arrival in a way she never could with Donny. The only fly in the ointment was Edie. Just because she was going through a hard time didn’t mean she could get away with sulking whenever something good happened to her sisters. She’d be having words with that madam later. But today, as the café was closed, she had better things to do than arguing with her recalcitrant daughter.
And the first item on her list was to go and talk to that stubborn old man. She needed to know whether he had forgiven her, or whether he was just tolerating her for the sake of the kids.
She took longer with her morning routine than usual, carefully taking out her curlers and brushing her hair until the curls bounced around her head. Then she dressed in one of her favourite bright red blouses and teamed it with a purple wool skirt. A fuchsia-pink cardigan completed the outfit, and for luck, she put on a slick of pink lipstick. She stared at herself in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction; she’d do.
Before she left she went to open the blackout curtains in the sitting room, whipping the cloth off the birdcage as she did so. ‘Wakey, wakey, rise and shine,’ she trilled.
The parrot blinked at her for a moment before squawking, ‘Grub’s up. Get a move on.’
Nellie laughed. ‘Wish me luck, Polly. I’m gonna need it.’
The bird stared back at her blankly.
‘Say “Good luck, Nellie”.’
‘Get a move on.’ Polly flapped her wings.
‘Oh, bugger you then, you stupid bird.’
‘What more luck do you need? You got all your kids within a stone’s throw, a smasher of a grandson and another on the way, and a thrivin’ business.’
Nellie whirled round to see Hester standing in the doorway wearing a too-large green dressing gown that belonged to one of the boys, her bleached blonde hair hanging around her face.
‘Bleedin’ heck, you nearly gave me a heart attack.’
Hester smiled slyly. ‘I’m guessin’ you need luck with old Jasper. Don’t think you need worry on that score.’
‘Really?’ Nellie’s heart lifted as she straightened her cardigan. ‘How do I look?’
Hester regarded her for a moment before saying carefully, ‘Put it this way, I don’t think he’ll have trouble spotting you, blind or not.’
‘I’ll settle for that.’ Nellie paused a moment, remembering the conversation last night. ‘Hester, all that stuff you’ve been spouting – about the government and that – you don’t mean it, do you?’
Hester’s smile dropped. ‘Why? You gonna throw me out cos I’ve not been taken in by all them news reports on the BBC?’
‘No, but listen, I know I’ve said it before, but I’m serious; keep your thoughts to yourself, eh? Especially when Ron Hames is about.’
‘I’ll say what I like and damn the consequences. No one’s gonna stop me speaking my mind.’
‘Even if the consequence is jail?’
‘What are you talkin’ about? I ain’t done anything except tell people what I think.’
Nellie hesitated. ‘I just . . . I mean, look at poor Clive Pearson. The man wouldn’t say boo to a goose, and yet they’ve banged him up on some trumped-up charge. You can’t be too careful.’
Hester laughed. ‘Listen to yerself! Imagine livin’ in a country where you worry about that sort of thing. Now get on with you. Go see your man and stop worryin’ about me. I can take care of myself.’
‘What are you doing today?’ Nellie smoothed her hair.
‘Might drop in to the caves – I promised I’d take Mr Evans his baccy. An’ I got some pencils and paper for the kids in there. Then maybe a nice walk along the cliffs. Blow away some of the cobwebs after all that champers last night.’
‘You know you’re not allowed up there? They tolerate the boys, but not sure they will you.’
‘I’ll go where I please, thank you very much. Anyway, maybe I’ll take ’em with me. We had a fine old time last time we was up there.’
Nellie shrugged. ‘Then I’ll see you later.’ But she couldn’t help feeling worried. She wasn’t a fool – she knew the news wasn’t always completely truthful. But it seemed that after losing her son and her house, Hester was now treading a very fine line. One that could lead straight to prison. Nellie hadn’t been keen on having the woman here when she’d first arrived, but she’d grown fond of her and she didn’t like the thought of her in trouble. But then Hester had lived on the wrong side of the law for most of her life, so she probably didn’t care much about that. Which worried Nellie even more.
Still, there wasn’t a lot she could do about it, so she pushed the problem to the back of her mind and after packing a bag with fresh bread, cheese and a Thermos of Marianne’s leek and potato soup, Nellie made her way up Castle Street.
As she neared Jasper’s forge, she stared up towards the first-floor windows, memories of what he’d said to her the last time she was here coming back to her: You’ve finally shaken me off, Nell.
Huh! She’d see about that. She straightened her shoulders and rapped on the door, then stood back. Soon Jasper’s head appeared at the window.
‘Christ alive,’ he exclaimed. ‘It ain’t even midday, and this place ’as been like Piccadilly Circus all mornin’.’
‘You gonna let me in?’ she called.
He shook his head. ‘I been out of a coma a week and them stairs are steeper than I remember. You got your key?’
Nellie smiled. He must have forgiven her if he was happy for her to use the key. She fished in her big black bag then held up a large iron key. ‘On me way.’
When she entered Jasper’s flat, she found him sitting in his usual chair by the fireplace, his dressing gown pulled around him, and his white hair standing up around his pale face. ‘You won’t mind if I don’t get up?’ he asked with a tired smile.
‘You stay right there. I’ll make tea.’ She bustled into the kitchen, noting the toast crumbs littering the counter. ‘Where’s bloody Bill? He should be helping you, not creating more mess.’
‘Raced off with Edie first thing.’
Nellie peered out of the small galley kitchen. ‘With Edie? Why?’
Jasper looked evasive. ‘Not my place to say.’
‘If this concerns my daughter, then I’ve got a right to know.’
Jasper smiled faintly. ‘No, you don’t. She’s an adult now.’
‘She lives in my house!’ Nellie said.
Jasper’s eyebrows rose. ‘You here for any particular reason? Or did you just want to moan about Edie?’
‘I wanted to see you, is all,’ Nellie muttered, disappearing back into the kitchen.
‘All right. And now you have, you can leave if you want.’
Nellie’s hands stilled as they lifted the electric kettle, unsure how to respond. Then deciding the best way was to ignore his comment, she poured the water into the teapot and carried it into the sitting room.
‘I also came to bring you some food so you don’t have to cook for yourself. Though you could always come to ours if you prefer.’
‘I weren’t jokin’ when I said them stairs were steep. Bill had to half carry me home last night. Didn’t realise how weak I was.’
‘Then why don’t you come stay at the café? Just till you feel a bit stronger,’ she said hopefully.
Jasper sighed. ‘No. An’ you don’t have to keep comin’ over. Lily said she’d be round later and I got Bill here for a bit. I don’t need you fussin’ over me.’
‘You call bringing over a bit of soup and making a cup of tea fussing? Clearly you’ve never met Muriel Parker.’
Jasper chuckled and Nellie relaxed slightly as she poured the tea then placed his cup and saucer on the low table beside his chair, before taking a seat opposite and watching him over her teacup. When he didn’t meet her eyes or seem inclined to speak, she put her cup down with a clatter. ‘Are you ever going to forgive me?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘You forget, Nell, that what happened months ago to you seems like yesterday to me. All them months of thinkin’ have been lost. And for the last week, my every waking moment has been spent wonderin’ whether I’ll ever be able to see again.’
Nellie sat back with a huff. ‘Have it your way then. But let me know when you have. You owe me that at least.’
‘I owe you nothin’. I love your kids, I even love you . . .’
Her heart leapt at that.
‘. . . but that don’t mean things will ever be the same between us.’
Nellie smiled brightly. ‘Good. Cos that’s not what I want either.’
Jasper looked startled. ‘So why are you here? And all dolled up as well?’
‘Like I said, just wanted to make sure you’re all right. And there’s nothin’ wrong with takin’ pride in my appearance.’ She slapped her hands down on the arms of the chair and heaved herself up. ‘And now I see you’re fine, I’ll be off. Give me a shout if you need anything else.’
She swung her coat back on, patted him on the arm, and walked away, leaving Jasper staring after her in bafflement. He shook his head, trying to ignore the ache that had suddenly started somewhere close to his heart.
Walking back to the café, Nellie smiled to herself. It was only his stubbornness that was holding Jasper back. But he’d come round, even if she had to force him.
*
‘Marge!’ The call bounced off the curved walls of the tunnel and Marge turned to see Philip walking towards her with a slight limp, although his uniform was neat and his brown hair Brylcreemed and shining under the lights.
‘Back already?’ She was relieved to see he seemed to have recovered from the night before.
‘Just wanted to thank you for helping last night.’
‘If you know anyone that’d just have left you trapped, show them to me and I’ll give ’em a beating. Of course I helped you!’
‘Still.’ He shuffled his feet slightly. ‘Anyway, er, seeing as our evening got cut short, don’t suppose you fancy trying again?’ He looked so hopeful that Marge smiled.
‘All right. What did you have in mind?’
‘Well, a bloke just asked me if I’d like to play in a football match against the navy next week and I thought you might like to come? Then we could go for drinks after?’
Marge wrinkled her nose. ‘Look, Phil, I like you, but standing in a freezing wet field watching a load of blokes kicking a ball about isn’t really my thing. But if I’m free, I’m happy to do the drinks after bit.’
Philip laughed. ‘Fair enough. It was a bit of an ask. Match is next Thursday afternoon in the field behind the garage. How about I meet you at seven in the canteen and we’ll take it from there.’
‘Looks like you’ve got yourself a date, Padre. I’d love to stay and chat, but my shift starts in five.’ She blew him a kiss and hurried towards the plotting room.
Philip turned to go back the way he had come, saluting smartly as he passed a naval officer and earning a dirty look in return. It was only after he’d passed him that he realised it was Rodney Castle. The man who’d been searching for Marge during the air raid the other day. He smiled to himself. Bad luck, buster, he thought with a smirk. I asked first.
