Читать книгу Lost Angel - Kitty Neale - Страница 13

The dawn chorus woke Ellen, and finding herself in a different room for a moment she was disorientated. Her last memory was of falling asleep on her dad’s lap, that thought causing her to sit bolt upright in bed. Her dad! Her dad was here and must have carried her up to bed in Gertie’s room.

Excitedly, Ellen flung back the blankets, careless of the cold linoleum underfoot as she scampered to see him. ‘Dad!’ she cried, jumping onto the bed.

An eye opened, a groan, and then he said, ‘Blimey, pumpkin, you’re up early. Come on, you’re cold. Get in between me and your mum.’

Ellen scrambled into the bed, uncaring that she had woken her mum as her arms wrapped joyfully around her father.

‘Ellen, your feet are freezing,’ Hilda complained, ‘and you’re a bit big for getting into bed with us now.’

‘Leave her, Hilda. She’s all right with us for a while.’

‘Doug … you … you haven’t got anything on.’

‘Bugger, I forgot about that.’

‘Why haven’t you got your pyjamas on, Dad? Did you forget to bring them?’

‘Er … no,’ he said, ‘but shift over for a minute and I’ll put the bottoms on.’

As his arm reached out to grab them from a nearby chair, Ellen was aware that her mother was getting out of bed. She turned over, eyes wide when she saw that her mum was naked. ‘Mum, where’s your nightdress?’

‘Stop looking at me. I forgot to put it on, that’s all.’

‘Hilda, now that you’re up, how about a nice cup of tea for your old man?’

‘See what you’ve done, Ellen,’ she complained, shrugging her flannelette nightdress over her head.

‘Blimey, talk about a passion killer.’

‘Doug, watch what you’re saying in front of Ellen.’

‘What’s passion?’ Ellen asked. ‘See what I mean?’

‘It’s just another word for enthusiasm, that’s all.’

Ellen still didn’t understand, but after wriggling about under the bedclothes her dad managed to get his pyjama bottoms on and she snuggled up to him again.

‘You needn’t think you can stay there for long, my girl,’ her mother warned. ‘Now that you’ve got us up at the crack of dawn you can give me a hand with our breakfast.’

‘I’ll get up when you fetch Dad his tea.’

‘Oh, so now he’s to have it in bed, is he?’

‘Cor, yes, please, love.’

Though her mum was trying to look cross, Ellen could see that she was happy, her brown eyes bright as she left the room. It was lovely to see her smiling all the time and she said sadly, ‘Dad, I wish you didn’t have to go back to sea.’

‘So do I, but buck up. We’ve got three lovely weeks together before that happens.’

There was the sound of a miaow and moments later Socks jumped on the bed, lying down on her father’s chest. He stroked his head, saying, ‘He was only a kitten the last time I saw him. He’s a whopper now.’

‘Yes, but he isn’t around much. He turns up every morning for something to eat and it’s my job to feed him, but then he’s off again.’

‘He should have been neutered.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Er … it’s something that’s done to tomcats to stop them roaming. Now tell me, did you like the carving I sent for your last birthday?’

‘Yes, it’s lovely and looks a bit like Socks.’

‘That’s what I was hoping,’ he said, but then as Ellen saw her mother walking in with a cup of tea he added, ‘Well, Ellen, if it’s your job to feed this cat, I think you’d best do it.’

‘But …’

‘No arguments. Now scat,’ he said. ‘I’ll be up soon, but stay downstairs until I am.’

Ellen reluctantly climbed out of bed, Socks jumping down to follow her out of the room. She heard her mum giggle, followed by the sound of the bed creaking, and it was over half an hour later before they appeared again.

Usually Gertie was the first one up, but not today. She forced a cheerful smile, saying as she sat at the table, ‘Good morning, Doug. Did you sleep well?’

‘Eventually,’ Doug said, winking lewdly.

Gertie couldn’t hold back a scowl, but hoped to hide it as she picked up the teapot to pour a cup, then adding milk.

‘Gertie, that tea’s been made for ages. I’ll make a fresh one,’ Hilda said as she walked through from the outhouse.

‘No, this will do me. I’ve got a lot to do and running late.’

‘I’ll cook you an egg on toast.’

‘No, Hilda,’ snapped Doug. ‘Ellen’s waiting and we’re going for a walk. Gertie wasn’t up when you were cooking breakfast and, anyway, I’m sure she’s perfectly capable of making her own.’

‘Yes, I am. Go on, Hilda, you can go for a walk.’

‘She doesn’t need your permission,’ Doug snapped.

‘Doug, what’s the matter with you?’ Hilda asked.

‘I just don’t think you need Gertie’s say so to go out. It’s not as if you work here or that Gertie’s your boss.’

‘Gertie took us in, you seem to be forgetting that.’

‘You pay your way and work on her smallholding. If you ask me she’s got a good deal.’

Hilda seemed to stretch, neck high and face flaming with temper. ‘Now you listen to me, Douglas Stone. I choose to do the cooking and, when necessary, outdoor work. Gertie works like a dog and, as her friend, I’m pleased to be able to help.’

‘Your friend, yes, but is that all she is?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Don’t act the innocent again. You know full well what I mean.’

‘My God, I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing.’

‘I saw what it was like when I was last here, with you waiting on Gertie hand and foot. She acts more like your husband than your so-called friend.’

‘Now you sound jealous.’

‘What do you expect! I’m in the navy and there isn’t much I haven’t seen, between both two men, and two women.’

‘Well, there’s nothing like that going on between Gertie and me,’ Hilda said forcefully.

Gertie said nothing as the row raged. She thought she’d hidden her feelings from both of them, but in Doug’s case she obviously hadn’t been successful. He thought she and Hilda were lovers but, oh, if only that were true. Still, she would have to be careful, to hide her feelings, or Doug might just persuade Hilda to leave.

Doug seemed to slump, his elbows on the table and his hands rubbing his face. ‘I’m sorry, love. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’

‘I should think so too, but it isn’t just me who deserves an apology.’

Doug looked up, swallowed, then said, ‘Sorry, Gertie.’

‘That’s all right. You’re obviously under a lot of strain, and maybe you just needed to release a bit of anger.’

‘It’s the things I’ve seen, ships going down, men drowning before we could pick them up, horrible, terrible things.’

‘Oh, Doug,’ Hilda cried, running to kneel by his side.

Gertie couldn’t watch and quietly she went out of the back door. It’s a shame it wasn’t Doug’s ship that went down, she thought, then was immediately appalled with herself. How could she think like that? It was disgusting, dreadful – but nevertheless the thought wouldn’t go away.