When Mr Chard called to collect the rent last Friday, Grace was four bob short. In the end, she’d borrowed the money from the bit she’d put aside for the coalman, but this week she’d still be four bob short and she’d have both of them to pay.
Kaye stopped by another table to have a word with a friend. Grace looked up as Snowy put a cup of tea on the table beside her. ‘Grace. I really didn’t mean to offend you. Me and my big mouth.’
Grace gave her a thin smile. ‘I know, and I’m sorry I was touchy.’
‘Touchy?’ said Poppy. ‘It’s not like you to be touchy, Grace. What’s up?’
‘Never you mind,’ said Grace. ‘Now tell me a bit more about this ball you’re going to.’
Snowy lived in South Farm Road, and as she and Grace walked part of the way home together, Grace talked a bit more about Bonnie.
‘Listen, girl,’ said Snowy eventually. ‘If you need anything, just let me know.’
‘Thanks, Snowy.’
‘I mean it. I know how hard it can be having your family miles away.’
Snowy’s daughter Kate had met and married an Aussie during the war. He was a lovely man but it had broken her mother’s heart when Kate announced that she was going to live in Australia. It was 12,000 miles away and took six weeks to go by boat. Snowy knew she would never see them again, but she didn’t let that spoil her daughter’s plans. Kate had gone away with her mother’s blessing, a smile and a cheery wave.
Grace squeezed her elbow. ‘I know you do. You’re a good pal.’
‘Are you doing the Thrift Club again this year?’ Snowy, always slightly embarrassed by compliments, changed the subject quickly.
‘Oh, yes and it was so popular last year, I’ve got even more savers this year.’
The Thrift Club. Grace had quite forgotten about that money. It was meant for Christmas but if push came to shove, she could use the money she had saved to pay back what she owed for the rent and the coalman. Suddenly she felt a whole lot better.
When the end of the war came, money was tight. At the beginning of 1946, Grace had had the idea that if she collected a shilling or two every week from her friends and neighbours and put it into a post office savings account, by the end of the year they would have a nice little bit of interest as well as the money they had put in. It had been so successful, she had repeated it this year.
‘Christmas would have been a lean time of it in my house if my family was still living at home,’ said Snowy pulling a face. ‘I kept meaning to save a few bob but I even had to dip into the bit I put aside for the doctor this year. I wish I’d joined.’
‘Do it for next year,’ said Grace. ‘It’s hard enough trying to save but if you put a little bit by each week, it soon mounts up. Perhaps you could have a little holiday.’
‘Fat chance,’ Snowy laughed. ‘With all the shortages, I sometimes wonder who won this bloody war.’
Grace nodded. ‘Mind you, according to the newsreels, Germany is having a rough time of it and all.’
‘Yes, we’re helping them!’ said Snowy acidly. ‘But who’s helping us?’
Grace was forced to agree. It upset her to think of little children going hungry, no matter what the parents had done, but she understood why her friend felt so aggrieved. Snowy’s brother had been killed in Burma and her parents who lived in Southampton had been bombed. Fortunately, their house had been repaired, which was more than could be said for the rest of the street. Almost every other house had been obliterated.
‘I was going to ask you,’ said Grace, changing the subject back again. ‘I’m going to draw the club money on Friday 12th and count it out.’
‘I’m sure you’ll make a good job of it,’ said Snowy. ‘You’re good at sums.’
‘It’s not that,’ said Grace. ‘I want to make sure everything is completely above board. I’ve kept good books throughout the year and I want someone to check my records and sign that it’s all legit.’
‘Sounds reasonable enough,’ said Snowy.
‘It protects me more than anything else,’ said Grace. ‘Could you come and help me with the count?’
They had reached Snowy’s gate. ‘When do you want me to come over?’
‘It’s half day,’ said Grace. ‘About three?’
‘Make sure you’ve got the kettle on,’ Snowy grinned.
With a friendly wave, Grace walked on, hardly noticing that just as she passed the Beehive Tea Rooms, a car drew alongside her and the passenger door opened. It was Norris Finley.
‘Get in, will you, Grace. I have something I want to tell you.’
‘Can’t you tell me at work?’
‘It’s private.’
Grace’s heart leapt. Had he found Bonnie? She looked around to make sure nobody was about and jumped into the car quickly. They finished early at the factory on Fridays and sometimes, if Rita was late out of the grammar school, they walked home together. Grace didn’t want Rita seeing her getting into someone’s car. As she closed the door, Norris turned the car sharply and they headed down St Lawrence Avenue.
‘Where are we going?’
‘We need to talk,’ he said mysteriously. ‘Let’s find somewhere quiet.’
‘You promised me a rent book,’ she said running her fingers through her hair nervously.
‘Yes, yes, and you’ll get one.’
‘I can’t afford another rent rise.’
He patted her leg in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. ‘I’ll make sure you get no more rises, Grace. All right?’
‘I still want the rent book.’
‘All right!’ he snapped. He sped up the car.
‘Norris, I have to get back home,’ she protested. ‘You’re taking me miles away.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get you back.’ He drove on until they’d reached Durrington where he turned into the rough track called Pond Lane before he stopped the car.
She waited anxiously. This was beginning to feel unpleasant. ‘So? What is it you want to tell me?’
He turned to her. ‘We’ve always been good friends, haven’t we, Grace?’
Grace stiffened. ‘Hardly,’ she snapped. ‘You took advantage of me when I was young and silly and you were old enough to know better. We have nothing in common.’
He smiled. ‘Nothing?’
Grace felt her face flame. ‘If it hadn’t have been for my Michael, my life would have been ruined.’
‘There you go again,’ he said, ‘being melodramatic.’
‘Just say what you want to say and then take me back,’ she said irritably.
‘Grace,’ he said, his voice becoming gentle. He touched her sleeve but she snatched her arm away. ‘I know you’re having a hard time. Look at you. Your coat is practically threadbare, your dress is darned …’
She could feel her face colouring with embarrassment. ‘I’ve just been to work,’ she said indignantly. ‘I’m hardly going to put on my best togs to go to the factory, am I?’
‘You