Patsy & Hattie
Hope of Acceptance
The sign caught Patsy’s eye: ‘Hattie’s Emporium’. It looked like a huge Woolworths. She still had over an hour before she had to get back to the station, and she couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than looking around this shop. She wondered if they gave a free cuppa if you bought something, like they did in Woolies.
When she opened the door of the store, the noise of a loud bell clanging made her jump. Who it was meant to alert she didn’t know, as all the counters – and there were lots of them – were built in a circular shape and had serving girls in the centre of them. Smells of all kinds tinged her nostrils: spices, perfumes and flowers. It was like she imagined Aladdin’s cave to look.
Elvis singing ‘Love Me Tender’ blared out. The record had been out for well over a year and she’d seen the film, but with Elvis now in the army, everyone had to make do with his old stuff for a time. The music drew her to a counter with the colourful posters of current rock stars hanging from it. It was laden with boxes and boxes of records. She hadn’t bought a record for ages. It’d be fun to have a look through.
‘Any you want me to play, I will, love. I’ve a sales copy of each, so customers can listen before they buy.’
‘Thanks. Have you anything by Cliff Richard?’
‘I’ve got his latest, “Move It”, and I reckon as it’s his best an’ all. You a fan of him and The Shadows, then?’
‘Yes, love him.’
‘Yer not from round here, are yer?’
‘No, I’m from London.’
‘What brings you up here then?’
A woman’s voice interrupted them. ‘Harriet, love, you didn’t tell me you were coming in. I’d have come over and picked you up.’
Patsy turned round. A middle-aged woman with dark hair peppered with grey stood smiling at her. Small, but with a nice figure – a bit like the film stars with a big bust and a tiny waist – the woman wore a lovely blue costume. Patsy’s heart thumped. Was she related to her? ‘I – I’m not Harriet. Who are you?’
‘Oh! I – I’m sorry. I—’
‘Look, Missus, I know I look like this Harriet, and I’ve been told as I’m her half-sister. Are you related to her then?’
The woman’s mouth dropped open. After a moment she seemed to pull herself together. ‘No . . . well, yes, in a roundabout way. She’s me adopted granddaughter. Look, love, would you come to me office to talk this through? I can’t think how you could be related to Harriet, but it’s right as you’re her double, so there’s sommat to look into here. Come on, love, I don’t bite, and I have a kettle and tea leaves in me room. You look like you could do with a drop of tea.’
‘Ta, a Rosie Lee would be very welcome.’
‘Ha, I remember the Land Girls during the war calling it that. I guess you’re from London then. They came from down south, only two didn’t go back, they married locally.’
When they reached the office at the back of the store – an area partitioned off, but with windows giving a view of the whole shop – Patsy thought it likely she’d been spotted from there.
‘You knew some Land Girls? Did you know Rita?’
‘Well, I can’t say as I knew them, not that well. They worked on me friend’s farm – Harriet’s grandparents’ farm. But I do remember Rita. She worked on the local gentry’s farm. She did a very bad thing. Do you know her?’
Without warning the tears welled up and swamped her.
‘Eeh, lass, what is it? Patsy, come on, you can tell me. I’m known for sorting things, even when they don’t look like they can be sorted. By, it’s uncanny how you look like our Harriet. What’s your story, lass?’
‘I’ve done something terrible, and it were that Rita as made me do it, only I didn’t know as it were terrible. I didn’t know as it’d cause me uncle to kill himself.’ At this, her sobbing took her over.
‘Eeh, I can’t make sense of anything you’re saying. Look, I’ll light me gas ring and get the kettle on. You calm yourself whilst I do so, and then you can start at the beginning. How’s that, eh? By the way, I haven’t told you me name yet. I’m Hattie.’
All Patsy could do was nod. Taking the hanky from Hattie’s hand, she wiped her face. The whistling of the kettle seemed to fill the space around them. It was a comforting sound, one that said everything was all right. And somehow she knew this Hattie would see to that. She would put everything right.
‘Now take a sip and, as soon as you feel ready, you tell your tale, lass.’
The hot liquid scalded her mouth, but soothed as it hit her stomach. It, and Hattie’s presence, calmed her. Starting from the moment she had walked into Rita’s office, Patsy told Hattie everything. The tears flowed as she explained how she thought she’d made her uncle kill himself.
‘Eeh, lass. Whatever Terence Crompton’s reason for taking his own life, it were nowt to do with you. It were more down to that Rita. She’s a wicked person. Mind, I’ve heard tell that she recently visited Jack, the bloke who was the victim of all the wicked things that happened at the time. Look, I can see as it’s my turn to start from the beginning. Rita . . .’
Horror gripped her as Hattie told of what had happened all those years ago. And to think she’d trusted that Rita!
‘Now, if it’s right as Crompton was your uncle, then that means the only person as could have been your mam was his sister, Theresa Crompton.’
‘Where is she? Do you know, Hattie?’
‘I only know she lives down in London somewhere. It was strange, but after living a frivolous kind of life, she suddenly left the area.’
‘Rita said that – and she reckons as that’s when I were born.’
‘Yes, it’s possible, but then later she went off to war and it’s said as she were a heroine – even suffered capture by the Germans. But what’s puzzling me is . . . Good God! Your dad must be—’
‘Yes, the same dad as Harriet has. Rita told me that she witnessed him raping Theresa.’
‘Well! You’ve took me stuffing out of me. So you are Harriet’s half-sister. Eeh, you’ll set something in motion with this, and here we were thinking as our lives had settled down.’
‘I – I’m sorry. Only I have no one to turn to. I don’t want to cause an upset.’
‘Naw, lass. This isn’t going to be easy, but no one will reject you.’
‘Have I just got the one sister?’
‘Aye. There are two lads, but they ain’t related to you, only to Harriet through them all having the same mam. But you have a great-gran – your dad’s gran, Bridget, is still alive. Eeh, lass, your dad has a lot to answer for, more than you know, but it ain’t none of it your fault. Tell me, lass, where were you brought up? What kind of a life have you had?’
‘I had various homes, from up in Glasgow to down in London, but it weren’t too bad. The nuns in the convent were kindly, but it’s just this feeling as no one wants you.’
‘I know, lass. I were the same, and I never did find me family. At least you’ve got a bit of a chance now. There’s no need for you to end up like I did. Look, the best thing I can do is take you home with me. I’ll not let you go back to that Rita. Have you a home or sommat as you have to pack up?’
‘No, I live in a hostel-type place. I just have me clothes.’
‘Patsy, I can’t say as how all of this will turn out, but I can say as I’m your friend from now on, lass. There’s folk as will be hurt by you turning up, as it will dig up stuff they’re trying to forget and will pile betrayal of another kind on top of what they have already dealt with, but—’
‘They’ll hate me, won’t they?’
‘Naw, these folk don’t know how to hate. It’ll just be strange, that’s all.’
‘I don’t know how to act with family. I ain’t never had any.’
‘Aye, I know. I’ll tell you me story one of these days. It ain’t a lot different from your own. Look, let’s get you home with me. Me man’ll know what to do. We’ll probably go and see this Rita, and find out where your mam lives and get your stuff from your place. At the moment I imagine your mam and the rest of your family are trying to cope with the death of Terence Crompton – your uncle – so we’d best leave it for a while.’
‘The rest of me family? I thought you said I had none, except Harriet and me great-granny.’
‘Well, that is about it, by my reckoning, as with them Cromptons not wanting you when you were born, it’s unlikely they will want you now. Anyroad, on the side of your family, other than your mam, there’s Lady Crompton – your grandmother. Then there’s a boy and twin girls as are your cousins, that I know of. There could be other family as I know nothing of; bound to be. They’re top-drawer folk and I don’t mix in their circles. Me man Arthur were top-drawer, but he gave it all up for the love of me, but he’ll know more about them. By, lass, I don’t know how all of this is going to pan out. But come on; let’s make a start on it by getting you back to my house, eh?’
On the way home Hattie felt as though she’d batted or answered a million questions. All of it beggared belief, and she felt out of control of her situation for the first time in a long while. Her heart went out to the girl, and just meeting Patsy brought back painful memories to her. How was she going to tell Sarah? And what about Harriet? God, Harriet had her life sorted – university, then medical school. How would all of this affect her?
‘Were me dad a monster, Hattie?’
She had avoided umpteen different ways of asking such questions, but this one was too direct to dodge. ‘I’d say he were, in a way. But only because his mind were that twisted, it made him so – he weren’t human, not in the way we are. He seemed incapable of having feelings for anyone, unless it was hate, or unless it were for Sarah – Harriet’s mam. His mind was like it were two halves, and the evil half won. I’m sorry, lass, but I can only tell you the truth. Harriet doesn’t know it all – she’s been told as he suffered mental illness, which of course is true. And that at times he went out of himself, which again is true. We’ve spared her, and will spare you, the worst of what went on. You have no need to know. Neither you nor Harriet are like him. He was different in all sorts of ways that you’re not. You appear to me to be a nice young lady, who is understandably bitter about stuff. I were, and so were Megan – she were Billy’s mam . . .’
And so they talked on and on, until Hattie was glad when they finally pulled into the drive of her house. ‘Now, lass. Me daughter . . . well, me adopted daughter – see, we’re a mixed-up bunch, so you’ll fit in well.’ Patsy smiled at this and it brought relief to Hattie. She’d thought the girl was without humour and would be very difficult to win round. ‘Anyroad, her and her husband are staying with us, so I think it best I go in and tell them about you, then come out and fetch you in. Is that all right by you? Otherwise it’s going to be such a shock and they’ll all ask questions at once, and you won’t know if you’re on your head or your tail!’ Another smile. ‘Oh, there’s sommat else: me husband, Arthur, and Sally’s husband, Mark . . . well, they both suffered injuries. Arthur got his in the First World War, and Mark were blown up in the last lot. So they’re both scarred and not pleasant to look on, till you get used to them; and besides that, Mark is blind.’
‘Oh, poor things. But don’t worry, it won’t bother me. I’m sorry it happened to them, though. But I won’t say anything. I’ll just act normal.’
‘You’re a nice lass, Patsy. Now don’t worry; everything will turn out. Like I say, I’m your friend now, and I never let me friends down, so I’ll be by your side whatever you decide to do, or whoever you take on and confront.’
‘Thanks, Hattie.’
‘No, tears, now. I’ll not be five minutes.’