‘That seemed to go well,’ Wendy said, surveying the empty stalls after the sale of second-hand clothes and bits and pieces had finished. ‘I don’t know how you manage to find so many nice things to sell, Angela. I bought a good leather bag for myself.’
‘I have to thank my father for a lot of it.’ Angela turned to him with a smile. He was waiting patiently to take her home so that she could change for the evening. ‘Dad asked our neighbours if they had anything for me to sell on behalf of St Saviour’s and they overwhelmed him with stuff. He sent it up in three large boxes on the train.’
‘Nan told me you’ve raised almost a hundred pounds from the Bring and Buy evenings you’ve been holding at your home, and hers.’
‘It seems women like exchanging the clothes they don’t want for something different, so we’ve done well, but once rationing is over and there’s new stuff in the shops people won’t want second-hand so much.’
‘A lot of women won’t ever be able to afford anything else.’ Wendy laughed softly. ‘Some of these clothes are better than anything I could afford to buy new. Besides, whatever happens in future, you’ll think of something. Everyone says you’ve done wonders since you’ve been here. The children have all sorts of treats these days, and it’s all down to you.’
‘It’s a team effort—’ Angela stopped abruptly as she noticed the man standing near the hall doorway. ‘I didn’t know he was here.’
Wendy followed her gaze. ‘Who is he?’
‘His name’s Arnold.’ Angela’s father frowned. ‘He arrived at the same time as I did. You were too busy to notice, Angela.’
‘I met him at a charity meeting the other night. I can’t think what he’s doing here though.’ Angela tried not to let the others see her annoyance. ‘Come on, Dad, let’s go. I want to get changed before we go out this evening. Wendy will finish up here for me, won’t you?’
‘You know I will, Angela,’ the staff nurse said, smiling. ‘Have a lovely time with your father.’
‘Angela …’ Henry Arnold touched her arm as she was about to pass him. ‘I was hoping we might have a word?’
‘Please telephone me, Mr Arnold,’ she said. ‘This is my father – Mr Hendry. We have an appointment and must leave now.’
‘I really do need to talk to you, Angela.’
‘Another time,’ Angela said. ‘Please excuse us, we have to go.’
She took her father’s arm and propelled him away. He looked at her, puzzled by her abrupt manner, which had bordered on rudeness. ‘That isn’t like you, Angela. The man was only being polite.’
‘I know, but I don’t like him. I may have to deal with him on behalf of the charity I represent, but I don’t have to spend time with him otherwise.’
‘Not like you at all,’ her father said, puzzled. ‘Ah, here’s Adderbury. You’re not going to brush him off too, I hope?’
‘No, certainly not,’ Angela said, but smiled hesitantly as Mark came up to them. ‘You almost missed us. We had a successful afternoon.’
‘I had hoped to be here sooner, but I was delayed. I’m glad it all went well for you.’
‘Yes, it did.’ Angela smiled at him. ‘Please call me when you can, Mark. We should talk sometime, but you’re always so busy.’
‘I’ll find the time,’ he promised. ‘Have a good evening. Nice to see you, Edward. We must catch up soon.’
‘Drop by for a drink one weekend, when you’re in the country.’ The two men shook hands and they parted.
Angela opened the door of her car. She didn’t often bother to drive in town but she’d had several bits and pieces to bring over earlier.
‘Well,’ she said as she eased the car into the steady stream of traffic. ‘I think you’ve got something to tell me, Dad?’
‘It’s about your mother,’ he said. ‘Good news and … well, rather odd news too, but I’ll explain when we get to your apartment. You need to concentrate on the traffic, Angela …’
Angela installed her father in one of the most comfortable chairs, gave him a drink and then sat down opposite, looking at him expectantly. He sipped the wine, nodded his approval, placed it on the small table at his side and assumed a serious expression.
‘Your mother wrote to me. She says she feels much better and doesn’t think she needs to stay at the clinic any longer, but … she doesn’t want to come home.’
‘What do you mean, she doesn’t want to come home?’ Angela was puzzled. ‘If she feels better, why wouldn’t she come home?’
‘Apparently she wants to stay with a friend she met in Switzerland. She’s been invited to say in a villa in the South of France and that’s what she wants to do.’
‘Not come home to you? Is she cured, after only a few months?’ Angela couldn’t believe she was hearing this properly. ‘Have you been invited to this villa too?’
‘No, there was no mention of it – and I’m not sure I’d want to go if there had been.’ He hesitated, then, ‘I’m not sure she is cured yet – but the clinic is voluntary. I can’t force her to stay if she wants to leave, Angela.’
Her father was looking tired, his skin grey and his whole manner defeated, as if he was finding it all too much to bear. She hadn’t noticed at the Church Hall, but now she could see that his youthful air had left him. He’d always seemed so much younger than her mother, still a handsome man and full of vitality, but now he looked drained.
‘Are you ill, Daddy?’ she asked quietly. ‘Is it your heart?’
‘Well, you know I’m not the man I was.’ He forced a smile. ‘I’m feeling a bit upset, that’s all. I thought when your mother left the clinic she would come home to me – but her letter was that of a stranger, someone writing out of duty …’
‘Does she know you’re not well?’
‘No, and I don’t want her to,’ he said, giving Angela a direct look. ‘It’s nothing serious, my love – and if she’s happier staying with her new friends … Well, we must let her have her life. It seems that your mother was disappointed in me. I couldn’t give her what she wanted. So now … she’s decided to go her own way.’
‘It sounds as if you think she isn’t coming back.’
‘I’ll be surprised if she does. You see, the friend she’s going to stay with is a man. Quite a wealthy man, I gather.’
‘Oh, Daddy!’ Angela was shocked at the implication in her father’s news. ‘After all you’ve done for her – for us …’ Angela felt anger rise up inside her. How could her mother have done this to him, especially when he was unwell.
‘Perhaps it is for the best, my love. You mustn’t worry about me. Someone comes in twice a week to clean and she does a bit of shopping and cooking for me, so I’m well looked after and I still have you – don’t I?’
‘You know you do,’ she said, but her eyes stung with tears and her throat was tight. Her head was running the whole gamut of emotions: love and hurt for his sake, and anger with her mother for behaving so callously. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I think she is being very unfair.’
‘She thinks we’re the ones who’ve been unfair to her. Your mother believes I love you more than her – and she might be right. In truth, our marriage has been over for some years, but I tried to hold it together for everyone’s sake and the result was disaster. Mark explained it all to me; it seems that the drinking, the shoplifting and spending sprees were all symptoms of an illness that was created by deep depression.’
‘But you gave us both so much, Dad.’
‘I tried, but it wasn’t enough for her … Perhaps what I gave was only money, at least as far as she was concerned. Had I loved her enough, I might have seen her despair years ago, but I was too busy – and I must admit, selfish too. Don’t imagine I shall go into a decline even if it comes to a divorce. I’m sorry for your sake though, Angela; we’ve let you down, and people will talk.’
Angela got up and went to kneel at his side, looking up at him earnestly. ‘You’ve never let me down, Daddy. If you need me, I’ll come home,’ she promised. ‘Remember that, dearest. You are the most important person in the world to me.’
‘I’m managing, my darling girl,’ he said, tenderly stroking her hair. ‘I thought you should know and it isn’t the kind of thing I wanted to say on the phone or in a letter.’
‘No, better to hear it from you,’ she agreed, but inside she was fuming. Her mother had sent him a letter rather than tell him to his face and that made her furious, but there was no point in saying more. He had accepted it and to make a fuss would only cause him more strain. ‘Now you must excuse me while I go and get ready for dinner. Tonight we’re going to have a lovely evening together, Dad, no matter what.’
NINE (#ulink_66a53681-ed40-503d-8130-8c355b70a46d)
‘I took Sarah’s pinafore skirt to be washed,’ Wendy told Angela as they sat drinking coffee in the staff room a few days later. ‘That dirty old pipe was in the pocket and I was tempted to throw it out, but instead I gave it a bit of a wash and put it in the locker by the side of her bed.’
‘That was good of you,’ Angela said. ‘To us it’s only a dirty old thing, but it means something to that child and she doesn’t have much.’