The War Widows. Leah Fleming

She was looking at them with disapproval.

      ‘Pity there isn’t another one of us to go round,’ sneered Levi, fingering his moustache, licking his lips and giving Su the onceover.

      ‘Don’t be silly. This is serious. People will want to know who these foreigners are. They should stay at home,’ said Ivy.

      ‘Levi has a point,’ said Lily. ‘You don’t suppose if we said that one of them was his widow, we could then say the other was one of his comrade’s friends, come to pay last respects?’

      ‘One look at those ginger curls and they would soon guess the score,’ Esme chipped in.

      ‘Stop this. This is no time for careless talk…Shame on you! You talk as if we weren’t here. I have come a long way. I am very disappointed. Now I don’t know what to think, and I have no home to go to either.’ Su found herself so angry she was spitting out the words.

      ‘Steady on, lass, we meant no harm,’ said Lily, reaching out to tap her hand. ‘What if we were to claim one of you as Freddie’s widow and the other the widow of his…cousin, say?’ she offered.

      ‘What cousin?’ snapped Ivy. ‘Levi has no cousin.’

      ‘Who’s to know but us? A cousin from down south who was killed in the war. That would explain two Mrs Winstanleys at the funeral and their offspring, and no questions asked,’ she added. ‘I don’t know why I’m concocting all this but it’s better than the truth.’

      There was a hush as everyone digested Lily’s plan.

      ‘I don’t like the idea. They should not be coming to chapel,’ said Ivy.

      ‘Have a heart,’ said Lily. ‘They’ve every right, and their kiddies too.’

      ‘Lily’s right. For the sake of those little blighters upstairs we can bend the truth so no one gets hurt.’

      ‘It’s a downright lie. They haven’t got a wedding ring between them,’ Ivy insisted.

      ‘Hah!’ laughed the honourable Esme. ‘They’d not be the first women in Grimbleton to go down to Woolworths to buy a brass ring and hope nobody asked for their marriage lines. It’s for appearance’s sake we’re doing this. No one need know but us. Then we can all hold our heads up high. What do you think, ladies?’ she asked.

      There was a pebble in Su’s throat, choking any response. Opposite sat her rival, who said nothing, only half understanding the conversation.

      ‘Ana, we are going to draw lots and choose who is to be number one wife Winstanley-wife of Freddie-and who is number two wife of…’ Su paused to think of a suitable name, ‘of Cedric.’ She bowed her head.

      ‘Who is Cedric when he’s at home?’ asked Levi, puzzled.

      ‘I met Cedric on the trek to India, a very nice American boy. He gave us a tin of cocoa from rations. It saved our lives. I like the name Cedric.’

      ‘Then you can be his wife,’ Ivy answered with her sour lemon smile.

      ‘Oh, no! I will be number one wife. I have a British passport and photograph of my intended. Joy Liat is his older daughter so I am number one.’ She was thinking on her feet, but then Ana burst into big sobs and blew her nose on her napkin.

      ‘These continentals are so emotional,’ said Ivy. ‘She’ll be weeping and wailing in church, making an exhibition of herself. Let them draw lots for who comes and who stays, I say.’

      ‘There’s no need to get upset. We will leave it to chance. Come on, son, fetch me my hat and some scrap paper. This is the fairest way,’ said Esme as she passed a clean hankie to Ana.

      I am dreaming all of this, thought Su: the wind blowing outside the window rattling the panes, rain lashing down on the glass like tears, the flames of the heater and the flickering gaslamps on the walls, the black scarf over the family portrait of my beloved on the mantelpiece. Perhaps I will wake up and it will all be a bad dream. The girl next to me will have disappeared and I will wake in the bunk of the troopship, and my lover will be waiting at the dockside.

      This was hardly the way to sort out such a pack of lies and half-truths but it was the best they could manage for the moment, thought Lily. Everyone was punch-drunk with shock and exhaustion, and resistance was low. Better to sort it out now and get their stories straight from the start.

      ‘There you go, girl, dip your hand in the hat. You go first.’ Levi was shoving the hat into Susan’s face. She picked out a folded slip of paper but did not open it. Then Ana picked out the other, opened it and smiled.

      Lily saw the words, ‘Mrs Winstanley, Mrs Freddie Winstanley, number one widow.’ She sighed and Levi winked at her. It was a fix.

      Susan rose from the table without a word and made for the stairs. Ana rose too but Lily held her back.

      ‘Let her have a few moments to herself. It has been a long day for all of us.’ She turned to Esme. ‘Perhaps it’s for the best if Miss Papawhotsit claims to be his proper wife. Susan has a British passport. Anastasia has nothing going for her but the fact that any dumb cluck can see that Concertina’s a Winstanley.’

      The Greek girl sat down promptly.

      ‘Tell us about Freddie in Athens. How did you meet? Was he well? Tell a grieving mother about her son. How did he look?’ Esme pleaded.

      ‘I knew him very short time. He is kind man. We go many dances and I teach him Creta dancing. He told me to come…’ Then she burst into tears again.

      Lily did her best to comfort her but half her mind was upstairs in the cold bedroom with the weeping Susan, the frozen girl who looked so lost. How could anyone not feel pity for them both?

      She tiptoed upstairs, peering into the cot to see the sleeping half-sisters, top and tail, looking like little angels. Her heart was relieved to see that Susan was fast asleep. By her bedside was the tattered snapshot of Freddie in a Pierrot costume with a golden halo of curls sticking out of his cap, the snapshot the girl had carried halfway across the world. Lily didn’t know whether she wanted to cry or wring her brother’s neck for bringing this trouble to their door.

      In that faraway world, he’d given them both comfort and loving. These girls knew lives she could hardly imagine, had journeyed into dark places just to bring their kiddies to safety and find Freddie again. It made her own world seem so small. No wonder Susan found everything so grey here. Their Grimbleton world was colourless and predictable but at least it was safe and would shelter these storm-tossed wanderers for a while…

      Freddie would want her to give them protection but how to explain them away? Not even Walt knew the full truth yet. And his mother had a mouth on her the size of Morecambe Bay.

      Still, the Almighty in His wisdom had dumped them here for a reason. It was up to Him to sort this lot out, and soon. All she knew was that tomorrow would begin the Winstanley family’s life of lies.

       6 Farewell to Freddie

      ‘Where’ve you been? I thought you’d run away with the coal man,’ whispered Walter as he pecked Lily on the cheek. ‘And what’s all this about Freddie’s wife and kiddy? I never knew he were wed.’

      The jungle drums were at work already. Lily sighed as she struggled to bring in the washing from the line in the back yard of his house in Bowker’s Row. It was starting to rain and his mother was dozing in the leather armchair, blissfully unaware. There would be just time to iron Walt a clean shirt and unpack the shopping she had brought before they must set off for the memorial service.

      ‘We’ve not seen much of you these last weeks,’ yawned Elsie Platt, rubbing her striped brown slippers with holes cut out to accommodate her bunions. Her bulk was wired tightly, like an overstuffed mattress, into a black funeral outfit. A winter coat lay