Lost Angel. Kitty Neale

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       Chapter Twelve

      When they returned to the cottage, it wasn’t long before Gertie and Ellen were working outside again, while Hilda read Mabel’s letter, her mind racing. Mabel wrote that South Clapham was still lovely, hardly touched by the Blitz, or any of the infrequent bombing raids that followed. The next bit of the letter was more exciting. By an absolute fluke, Hilda’s letter to Mabel had arrived at an opportune time. Apparently the old lady who lived downstairs was unable to look after herself any longer and was going to live with her daughter. Mabel had already spoken to the landlord on Hilda’s behalf and he was willing to let her have the place, but to secure it she’d have to travel back to London as soon as possible.

      Gertie was sure to kick up a fuss, and Hilda didn’t want Ellen to hear what might develop into a row, so going to the back door she called, ‘Gertie, can you come in for a minute? I need a hand with something.’

      Thankfully Hilda saw that Ellen remained where she was, and as soon as Gertie reached her, she beckoned her inside, saying curtly, ‘Gertie, we’re going back to London.’

      ‘What! No, Hilda, tell me you don’t mean it.’

      ‘Mabel said a flat has come up, and if I go back I’ve got a strong chance of getting it.’

      ‘You’re being selfish. Ellen loves it here, but you’re going to drag her back to London where it isn’t safe.’

      ‘It is safe and I am not selfish.’

      Gertie’s stance became rigid, her lips set in a tight line. ‘You’re not going. Despite what you say, London is too dangerous. I insist you stay here.’

      Anger flared in Hilda and she yelled, ‘Who are you to tell me what to do? If I want to go back, I will. In fact, we’re going right now!’

      ‘And how do you think you’re going to get to the station? I’m not taking you.’

      Hilda fumed. It was miles to the village, let alone Crewkerne, but even if it took many hours, somehow she’d get there. ‘And you call me selfish. It won’t work though, Gertie. You can’t keep me a prisoner and if you won’t take us, fine. We’ll walk to the village and I’m sure someone there will give us a lift to Crewkerne.’

      As Hilda stomped outside, Gertie almost doubled over in anguish. She’d said all the wrong things, been too forceful, and her stupid threat that she wouldn’t take them to the station had rebounded. She’d wanted to delay Hilda, to have time to talk some sense into her, but instead it had made Hilda even more determined to leave. Gertie wanted to chase after her, to beg her to stay, but Hilda was now so angry that there’d be no getting round her.

      Poor Ellen, she’d be so upset, but that thought gave Gertie a smidgeon of hope. Seeing her daughter’s distress might be enough to sway Hilda, and Gertie now hurried back outside, hearing Ellen’s voice high in appeal as she drew closer.

      ‘No, Mum! I don’t want to go.’

      ‘It’s safe in London now and we’ve no reason to stay here. Now get a move on. We’ve got packing to do.’

      ‘No,’ Ellen said mutinously.

      ‘You’ll do as I say, my girl.’

      ‘I want to stay here!’

      Gertie laid a hand on Hilda’s arm. ‘Please, at least leave Ellen with me.’

      ‘No!’ Hilda spat, pushing a protesting Ellen ahead of her to the cottage.

      Gertie knew she had lost and, heartsick, she stood unmoving, watching them go. Before they’d arrived she had become used to living on her own, adapted to the loneliness by burying herself in working the smallholding. She’d found a contentment of sorts, but their arrival had changed all that; her way of living, of thinking, had been transformed and Gertie knew she couldn’t face the life of a recluse again.

      She had loved teaching Ellen, had seen how she enjoyed the lessons, her mind absorbing so much. Gertie knew she was a talented teacher, a wasted talent now, and with that thought came a yearning to teach again. With her past record she doubted it would be possible and for the first time in years Gertie felt tears flooding her eyes. She wasn’t an emotional woman, but Gertie cried now, cried at the thought of losing Hilda, of losing Ellen, and for the loss of her career.

      Sobs racked Gertie’s body and she folded at the waist, clutching both arms around her stomach. Oh Hilda, Hilda, please don’t leave me, her mind screamed, until her knees gave way and she sank onto the ground.

      Ellen didn’t want to leave, couldn’t bear the thought of going back to London, but her mother was so angry that she found herself almost shoved upstairs and into the bedroom.

      ‘Do … do we have to go?’

      ‘Yes, and I can’t believe that selfish bitch. We’ve worked like bloody dogs since we’ve been here, outside in all weathers, and what thanks do we get? None! She won’t even take us to the station.’

      ‘I … I didn’t mind doing the planting, Mum. I like seeing things grow.’

      Ellen was ignored, her mum opening drawers and stuffing things into a case, but she tried СКАЧАТЬ