Beyond a Misty Shore Page 11

  It was with some relief that Sophie had gone back upstairs and lain down on the bed, still feeling upset and confused. She felt exhausted and drained too for she hadn’t slept at all well.

  For what seemed like most of the night she had tossed and turned, listening to the breathing of Katie, Maria and the child tucked in beside her. She knew she couldn’t risk seeing Frank again; it just wasn’t possible, not if she wanted to keep her sanity – and for Bella’s sake she had to. Maybe she did love him, she’d thought, and then with brutal honesty she admitted that she had fallen in love with him. She hadn’t meant to, she had thought she would never love again, but somehow it had happened. But at the same time she knew there could never be anything between them. He would never divorce Nora and she couldn’t – wouldn’t – ask him to, so there could be no future together for them. She’d felt utterly miserable at the thought and her head had started to ache again. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone; as Arthur Chatsworth had reminded her, she was still young.

  It had been just as the first faint rays of the grey January dawn were filtering through the gap in the curtains that she’d made her decision. She and Bella would have to leave Lizzie’s house. She had come here to start her own business and provide a better future for Bella and she wasn’t going to jeopardise that now by pining for Frank Ryan. She had to make a clean break.

  After that she had started to wonder just where she would go and if Maria would go with her, for she wouldn’t force her sister to leave here if she didn’t want to. And where in this city would she find decent lodgings at a price she could afford, and who would take care of Bella after school and in the holidays? Her mind had become so clogged with worries that sleep had been impossible. Then she’d realized, when first Katie and then Maria had stirred, that it was time to get up and try to face everything.

  For half an hour after Lizzie had sent her back upstairs Sophie tried to relax, but she just couldn’t sleep. She gave up and went slowly back downstairs, feeling no better. The kitchen was deserted and untidy; her aunt had obviously decided to leave clearing up until she got back. Sighing heavily and feeling depressed, she began to clear away the dirty breakfast dishes but she turned as the door opened.

  ‘Sophie, I didn’t realise it was you, I thought it was Mrs Quine. I just came in to refill my water jug,’ Arthur Chatsworth said quietly.

  ‘I . . . I didn’t go to work, Aunty Lizzie told me to stay off and rest.’

  He nodded. ‘Very wise. How are you feeling this morning?’

  She managed a weak smile. ‘Better, thank you, Arthur, but I didn’t get much sleep, I’m afraid.’

  Again he had the feeling that there was something else, apart from Nora, on her mind. ‘Sophie, is there something upsetting you, other than the events of last night? My dear, let me assure you again that anything you tell me will be kept in the strictest confidence. My conversations with the family are brief, as you know, and I just pass the time of day with the neighbours – it would be discourteous to utterly ignore them.’

  Sophie sat down at the table, twisting her hands together. It would be a relief to unburden herself of her feelings; surely it wouldn’t hurt to confide in Arthur? He was such a pleasant, quiet man and he was discreet; he wasn’t family and they had talked about Frank before. ‘That awful incident last night was partly my . . . my fault,’ she began, trying to chose her words carefully.

  He sat down opposite her and although he looked surprised he made no comment.

  ‘You remember before Christmas we . . . we had that conversation about me being “friends” with Frank Ryan and . . . and about me spending the rest of my life . . . alone . . .’ She was struggling.

  Understanding was beginning to dawn on Arthur Chatsworth and he decided to try to make it easier for her. ‘You and Frank have become more than just “friends”, is that it, Sophie?’

  She nodded, biting her lip. ‘Last night . . . things . . . Frank kissed me and I . . .’

  ‘And Nora saw you?’

  Again she nodded. ‘So you see it was partly my fault and now . . .’

  He looked at her ruefully. ‘I think I, too, may have to share some of the blame.’

  ‘You, Arthur?’

  ‘Yes. Maybe I encouraged you, during that little talk. I did tell you that you were still a young woman and that life can be very lonely on your own . . .’

  ‘No, it wasn’t anything to do with that, I promise. It . . . it just sort of happened, but you know as well as I do that there is nothing to be done. Frank isn’t free to . . . love me, no matter how I feel about him. I’ve made a decision.’

  He looked interested. ‘What have you decided, Sophie?’

  ‘That Bella and I will have to find somewhere else to live, away from this street, away from this neighbourhood. Away from Frank.’

  He didn’t blame her but it was a drastic measure for a young woman with a child to contemplate. ‘Where will you go, Sophie? How will you manage on your own?’

  ‘I don’t know. I . . . I had planned to rent a house in a decent area and run a business from it, making clothes hopefully for an increasing number of private clients. That way I could take care of Bella and give her a good home and future. It was one of the reasons I came to Liverpool, but I haven’t saved up nearly enough money yet and it doesn’t look as though I will ever be able to do so.’

  ‘Will Maria go with you?’ he asked, although his mind was working quickly. The position she now found herself in was hopeless but she was desperately trying to find a way to alleviate it. He had to try to help her.

  Sophie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I won’t force her to, she seems happy enough here and she’s very friendly with Katie and a couple of the girls from further down.’

  He leaned forward. ‘I can fully understand your dilemma, Sophie, and I will be happy to help, if you’ll let me.’

  ‘How? How can you, Arthur?’

  ‘I have some savings. It costs me very little to live here, my needs are few. I would be quite willing to invest some money in your business. I assume you will need to purchase certain things? A sewing machine, patterns and items of haberdashery? And you will need to advertise too.’

  She was taken aback. ‘It’s very generous of you to offer, but why? Why should you help me, Arthur? You barely know me.’

  He smiled. ‘I hear most of what goes on in this house – the walls are very thin – and I know enough to put my faith and trust in you, Sophie. You are honest, kind, generous and a good mother.’ He steepled his fingers and looked down at them, as if concentrating hard on his fingertips. ‘I . . . I never had a daughter. In fact I have no children. My . . . my wife . . . died young. I’m alone but I . . . I would like to help you, Sophie, because I would like to think of you as the daughter I never had.’ It cost him dearly to tell her that and the loneliness was evident in his tone.

  Despite her confused emotions Sophie heard it and she smiled sadly. So he too knew how it felt to be bereaved and alone. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

  ‘So, will you let me help?’

  She nodded, feeling a surge of relief wash over her. ‘I can’t leave here until I’ve got myself established with enough money coming in to provide for myself and Bella, and until I’ve found somewhere else, and that might present a problem with Maria and . . . Frank.’

  He looked serious. ‘I think you should confide in your sister. You appear to be very close and as for Frank, well, how would it be if I met you and escorted you home from the tram each evening? That would give him no opportunity to speak to you.’

  Sophie nodded slowly. It would hurt and upset Frank, she knew, but there was little else she could do.

  ‘Of course, the neighbours may start to gossip, reading more into our friendship than there is.’

  Sophie smiled. ‘Let them. It won’t be for long.’

  He smiled back affectionately. ‘Right, then the first thing I think you should do is place an advertisement in the newspapers, both the Bo
otle Times and the Liverpool Echo.’

  Sophie became flustered. ‘I wouldn’t know what to say . . .’

  ‘I’ll compose it for you, then when we’re both happy with it I’ll take it down to the offices in Old Hall Street. If I get there early enough it should make this evening’s edition.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to tell Aunty Lizzie about it. Someone is bound to see it and mention it to her.’

  ‘Why not just tell her that you are trying to start a business – tentatively – it’s what you had planned and you’ll just see how it goes before you give up your job?’ he suggested.

  ‘But if I do get any replies, where can I see people? You know how crowded we all are here and you have to admit it sometimes gets like a three-ring circus.’

  ‘Either in their own homes or you could use the front room – my room. I’d go out for an hour or two; that way at least you would have a bit of privacy.’

  ‘I couldn’t put you to all that inconvenience,’ she protested.

  ‘I’m sure it won’t be for long, Sophie. Now, if we’re to get this advertisement in on time, we’d better make a start.’

  It was far better than anything she could have put together, she thought after he’d left. It sounded so professional. He’d used words like ‘bespoke’ and ‘discreet, impeccable service at competitive prices’ and she felt infinitely better about things than she had first thing that morning. Now all she had to do was tell her aunt and Maria.

  Lizzie listened in silence but with a slightly worried and cautious look on her face as Sophie outlined the plan and when her aunt voiced her doubts about how she would manage to cut out and sew in these cramped conditions and was it wise to think about giving up a steady job, Sophie explained that if it was successful – and she prayed it would be – she would move, reminding her aunt that it would be better for her to remove herself from the vicinity of Frank and Nora and also give Lizzie and her family more much-needed room. Put like that Lizzie had to agree, although she told her niece not to get her hopes up too high. Suitable lodgings were almost impossible to find and there were many well-patronised dressmaking establishments already in the city.

  She broached the subject with Maria when her sister returned from work. Maria was close enough to Sophie to know that she was upset about what had happened last night and thought this the reason for the tête-à-tête. In fact she had been upset that she had been with Ben and the others and hadn’t been at her sister’s side to help her fend off Nora Ryan.

  ‘Is it something to do with Frank and . . . Nora and last night?’ she asked as she brushed out her long, dark curls, which she wore confined tidily in a neat chignon for work.

  Sophie sighed and nodded as she sat down on the end of the bed Maria shared with Katie. Their cousin had gone down to see her friend Ivy to borrow a pair of earrings as she was going out with Matt later. The room was chilly and Sophie tucked the quilt around her feet. ‘You know what happened last night. Well, it’s no use me telling you not to waste your life waiting for someone you love but can never have, if . . .’

  Maria turned and sat down beside her. Thoughts of Hans had flooded her mind at Sophie’s words, but she determinedly pushed them away. ‘Sophie, I knew it was more than just affection . . .’

  ‘Oh, Maria, it started that way but . . . but now it’s more. I realised that last night. It’s hopeless, I know it – we all know it. I have to put him out of my mind and my heart and think of a future for Bella now. There is no future for Frank and me and I can’t stay here, not when there is the chance I will see him almost every day.’

  Maria was startled. ‘You’re not thinking of going home, are you, Sophie?’

  Sophie reached out and put her arm around her sister’s shoulder. ‘No. I’m going to start my business, with the help of Arthur Chatsworth. He’s offered to invest some of his savings in it. In fact there is an advertisement in the Echo tonight and if all goes well, I’ll try to find somewhere else to live and to work.’

  Maria just stared at her blankly as Sophie relayed her conversation with Lizzie’s lodger. Of course she could understand just how Sophie felt. She couldn’t go on living here, bumping into Frank regularly as she was bound to do and having to confront Nora on occasions as well. Seeing Frank would only make it harder for her sister.

  ‘So, Aunty Lizzie does know that we’ll be moving – sooner or later?’

  ‘Yes, but you don’t have to come with me, Maria, if you don’t want to. You’ve settled well here and you’ve got Katie, Ivy and Daisy Caldwell, and of course Ben.’

  Maria smiled wryly. ‘Don’t start on about Ben again, Sophie, and I’d sooner not be sharing a bed with Katie, even though I like her well enough. Of course I’ll come with you. You’re my sister, I don’t want to leave you or Bella. I’d like to have a bit more room and some privacy too; everyone always seems to be on top of each other here.’

  Sophie did feel more relieved that Maria was happy to go to a new home with her – when they found one.

  Maria stood up, pulling her sister up too. ‘Let’s go and have a look at your advertisement – if we can prise the paper off Uncle Jim. I wonder how soon you’ll get any replies?’

  ‘One would be a start,’ Sophie replied, smoothing down the quilt and following her sister out of the cramped and rather dismal room.

  Chapter Twelve

  FOR THE NEXT FEW days Frank did try to avoid Sophie, although it took all his resolve to do so. He deliberately lingered at the end of the working day so he missed his usual tram, arriving later at his destination, knowing Sophie would then be safely home at Lizzie’s house. One evening, however, it had started to snow heavily and his foreman told him to ‘get a move on’ or else the trams would have stopped running and he’d have a long, cold walk home.

  The tram was packed. He didn’t see her but then he had been shepherded up to the upper deck by the conductor, who was loudly informing everyone that there was no more room downstairs and that as soon as they reached the depot – if they did – that was it. He for one was going home; there would be no more trams tonight.

  Crushed in beside a window on the lower deck Sophie gazed out at the silent and increasingly heavy white flakes that were transforming the city, obliterating the ugly scars left by the blitz with a mantle of pristine white. She had started to get used to the sight of Arthur Chatsworth waiting patiently in the cold a few feet away from the tram stop even though ever since she’d returned to work there had been no sign of Frank.

  Tonight she thought that Arthur’s patient vigil was rather above the call of duty, given the weather, and she was deliberating whether or not to tell him not to come out tomorrow evening, that’s if there were any trams or buses running. If there weren’t she would be walking to and from work and she was determined not to drag the poor man all the way to Marsden’s to meet her. Everyone would be home late this evening and they’d all probably have to walk to work tomorrow for there was little sign of the snow stopping.

  Frank had managed to get on to the platform of the tram before it reached the stop but there were a dozen or so people crowded behind him and he couldn’t see her. After he had alighted, he stood aside to let the other passengers pass. He’d decided to wait for her. It would be hard walking in this weather and she might easily slip. That was all it was, he assured himself, concern for her welfare. Concern that she reached Lizzie’s house safely. Surely no one could read more into that? Anyone with a smattering of manners would help a woman – young or old – in such conditions.

  At last he caught sight of her as she stepped off and on to the snow, which had already been compacted by the feet of other passengers, and his heart began to beat faster. He took a few steps forward but was suddenly confronted by Arthur Chatsworth, muffled up in a heavy overcoat and scarf and with a trilby hat pulled well down on his head.

  ‘Excuse me, Frank, I’ve come to meet Sophie and escort her home. I meet her regularly now. It’s a terrible night and you’d be wise to get off home yoursel
f.’

  Frank stared at him for a moment, and then nodded curtly. Sophie stepped in front of Arthur.

  ‘Frank, I’m sorry. I . . . I really don’t want to hurt you but I’ve made a decision. I’ll be moving away from Lizzie’s soon. I’m going to start my own business – dressmaking. Arthur is helping me . . . backing me and . . . and it was his idea to meet me off the tram. I . . . I really am sorry, Frank. You have to believe me. It’s for the best.’ She turned back to Arthur. She was tired, cold, hungry and now felt miserable but at least she had explained things to Frank. She had been almost certain he would have been on that tram, considering the weather, and if Arthur hadn’t been there, she would have had no option but to walk home with Frank and then . . .

  ‘I suspect that will be the last tram going this way tonight. You were lucky to catch it, Sophie.’

  Sophie looked up at her companion. ‘I know and thank you for meeting me. I feel awful dragging you out in this weather. I just couldn’t ignore Frank. He looked so hurt.’

  ‘It’s no trouble to me and I’m just helping you to stick to your resolution. It’s for the best. Now, let’s not dwell on it further. There are two letters waiting for you, your aunt said they came in the midday post, before the snow started.’

  It took them almost twice as long to get home but when they arrived Lizzie had the table set and a big pan of oxtail soup simmering on the range. Both Maria and Katie were in, as were Bella and Billy, but of the men there was no sign yet.

  ‘I swear it’s getting worse out there. You both look frozen. Get those wet things off and have a bowl of soup. You too, Mr Chatsworth.’ Lizzie bustled about, ladling the soup into two bowls, and for once Arthur didn’t refuse or protest.

  ‘Open your letters first, Sophie. We’re dying to know who has written in reply to your advert,’ Maria urged and Katie nodded eagerly. Katie thought it all very exciting; she’d never known anyone as young as her cousin who had started their own business.