Page 102 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
‘That sounds like a good plan.’ Sophie smiled. ‘I think Newcastle suits you– you’re looking really well. Don’t tell Tilly how much fun you’re having though, or she might insist on staying with you and refuse to get back on the boat at the end of next month.’
The three women agreed to meet up in October before they were due to sail. By then Adela would have made her final decision. Libby slipped Adela a folded piece of paper as they were packing up.
‘Will you give that to George for me please?’ The girl held her look, but there was uncertainty in her deep blue eyes. ‘It’s a cartoon.’
‘Of course I will.’ Adela took it. ‘Am I allowed to look?’
‘You can, but don’t show it to anyone else.’
Adela opened it up. There was the unmistakable image of George– the wave in his blond hair exaggerated, and half his face taken up with a huge grinning mouth– and he was whacking a cricket ball high in the air. Below the giant hurtling ball, and running for their lives, were tiny figures in Nazi uniforms, with Hitler leading the retreat.
Adela chuckled at the likeness and the pithy message. ‘He’ll like that– hero George to the rescue.’ She smiled at the girl. ‘You’re very talented, Libby.’
‘I wish Mummy thought I was,’ said Libby, then hurried off before Adela could protest that Tilly did.
Back on Tyneside, Adela put her plan into action about finding a job in the theatre. She had a fruitless week tramping around the theatres for a paid job and ended up getting a part-time position as an usherette at the Stoll Picture Theatre. By the end of the month the talk was all of Chamberlain, the prime minister, returning triumphantly from his negotiations with Hitler waving a peace agreement with Germany, Italy and France. Adela wondered what Libby and Miss MacGregor would make of it all.
In early October Adela’s job became full-time, and when she wasn’t at the cinema she was helping out at Herbert’s Café. Sometimes before a shift she would end up drinking tea in Lexy’s small flat above the café, encouraging her to reminisce about the old times, when her mother was in charge. Adela rarely spent time at Aunt Olive’s any more, just returning to sleep and share in the occasional meal. She insisted on giving her aunt some money for her bed and board.
‘It’s very good of you to let me stay so long,’ Adela said. ‘When I’ve saved a bit more, I’ll look for digs.’
‘Why ever would you do that?’ Olive exclaimed. ‘No, you can keep on sharing with our Jane. What would Clarrie think of me if I allowed you to go living in lodgings like some working-class lass? I’ll not have the neighbours saying I can’t look after my own.’
Adela was enjoying her job– it meant she got to see all the latest films, even if it was in snippets, and she still had the occasional evening off to meet up with George and his friends. Now that the cricket season was over, they went dancing or to the musical hall. Jane did not go out with them and had rebuffed Wilf enough times for the amiable joiner to look elsewhere. He was courting Nance from the café. Adela was perplexed as to why her friendship with Jane had cooled since her going away to StAbb’s. Her cousin was polite, but distant. Perhaps she feared Aunt Olive’s censure, or maybe they were just too different to be close friends.
Two days before Adela was due to see Tilly and Sophie, Myra the cleaner waylaid her on her way out. She kept her voice low so Olive, sitting at the front-room window, keeping a watch on her neighbours, didn’t hear. ‘Away in the kitchen a minute, hen.’
‘I don’t really have time, Myra; I’m due at work in twenty minutes. Can it wait?’
‘Better now while Jane’s out and MrsBrewis is on the sherry.’
Adela gaped. ‘What do you mean, on the sherry?’
Myra gave her a look of disbelief. ‘You must hae noticed?’ she whispered.
‘No—’
‘I have to buy it in– as well as the cough sweets to mask the smell. She thinks MrBrewis and Jane don’t know, but they do. We all pretend it’s medicinal. Her morning medicine, she calls it. Helps her get through the day.’
Adela was stunned. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Anyway, that’s not what I wanted tae say.’ Myra nodded towards the kitchen and Adela followed her in.
‘Take a seat, hen.’ When Adela had sat down at the kitchen table, Myra continued. ‘I do all the laundry here, including all of yours, am I right?’
‘Yes, it’s very good of you.’ Adela was distracted, still trying to take in the news that her aunt was a secret drinker. Was that why she was so contrary in her moods and never left the house until well into the afternoon?
Myra waved a dismissive hand. ‘I don’t mind; that’s ma job. But you don’t dae any of yer own washing– nothing personal?’
‘The odd pair of stockings if I need them for the following day.’
‘I don’t mean stockings, lassie. But I have nae washed any of your sanitary towels. You’ve been here over three months and you’ve never had a bleed.’
Adela stared at the woman, nonplussed. ‘Well, I’m never very regular,’ she said and flushed, acutely embarrassed.
‘That’s what I thought,’ Myra said, eyeing her, ‘at first.’
‘What do you mean?’ Adela’s heart began to thud.
