The next morning, across town in the Elliot household, something far less expected arrived on the doormat in the form of a Portsmouth postmarked letter addressed for the attention of Miss Pearl Hardwick.
Picking up the envelope from the doormat, Pearl was thankful no one else had seen it, thankful that for once she had been the first up as she had forgotten to prepare the fire the night before when she had come back from her shift at the pub. A couple of the regulars, who clearly had the glad eye for her, had bought her a few drinks, and that, coupled with the large brandy she kept hidden next to the beer tray, which she had slowly supped on throughout the evening, had made her more than a little tipsy; she had come back and gone straight to bed, completely forgetting to stack the fire up.
Prepping the range for the day ahead was about the only contribution Pearl made to the running of the Elliot household, and, although she hated doing it, she had learnt that it had the added bonus of endearing her to Agnes. And, whether Pearl liked it or not, Agnes was the boss and it paid to stay on her good side.
On seeing the letter, Pearl felt a wave of mixed emotions. If she had received any kind of communication from Portsmouth when she’d first came to stay with her daughter and in-laws, she would have been cock-a-hoop. But six months had passed, and now her feelings weren’t quite so clear-cut.
Stuffing the envelope into her bra, Pearl hurriedly cleared out the grate and made a tiny bonfire of kindling and coal, before sparking the fire up and making herself a cup of tea.
When she heard the rest of the household start to stir, she grabbed her cigarettes and carefully carried her cuppa out to the back yard, safe in the knowledge that no one would join her if she was having a smoke.
After placing her cup and saucer down on the ground, Pearl perched herself on the wooden stool she had put out in the corner of the yard for her fag breaks. After sparking up, she pulled out her letter, slid her thumb under the back of the sealed envelope, and slowly tore it open.
Reading had never been Pearl’s strong point, but luckily the words written on the white paper were both simple and to the point. It could hardly be classed as a love letter, but it was as near to one as Pearl had ever received.
The few lines of scrawled, childlike writing were, as anticipated, from Victor, her live-in lover, the man she had left in Portsmouth; the reason she had ended up back in her hometown.
Victor’s almost illegible scribblings told her that he wanted her back. That this time would be different. That he would be different. All she needed, he wrote, was enough money for her train fare back down south – and ‘a little extra’ to help keep them both going for a while. He made no mention of the money needed to pay off the debts they had both accrued, and Pearl wondered how he had managed to keep their creditors at bay.
Pearl read and smoked and then smoked some more.
She had loved Victor. Probably still did. The men she had been with since she’d come back didn’t count for anything. She and Victor had been a proper couple. The only downside had been that they were both as fiery as each other, especially after a few drinks. They fought like cat and dog and, more often than not, Pearl was the one to come out of it worse.
Pearl cringed inwardly when she recalled the last time she had seen Victor, how he’d chucked her and her meagre belongings out of their little end-of-terrace boarding house and on to the street after one alcohol-fuelled argument too many back in January.
‘Sod off, yer stupid cow!’ he had yelled from the front doorstep, so that every man and his dog could hear. ‘We’re finished. You’re on your own now!’
Pearl had known he had meant what he’d said, and so had gathered up her few bits and pieces off the street, stuffed them into her beaten-up suitcase, and headed back to her hometown.
She might have been returning with her tail between her legs, but she had been damned if anyone was going to know that, which was why she had made out that she’d come back for Isabelle’s sake after hearing about Teddy’s death; although, gauging by her daughter’s reaction, she had not believed that for one second. Her daughter wasn’t stupid. She had known straight away it was an outright lie that her mother had come to comfort her in her time of need; she would never have gone to see Isabelle if she had been all right with Victor. She might have sent a little condolence card – but that would have been it.
The only reason Pearl had gone round to Agnes’s was because her mate Irene had told her there was a spare room going. She knew Agnes wouldn’t turn her away – knew she would never turn away anyone in need – although she hadn’t been as sure that Isabelle would be so accommodating. And she had been proved right. She had seen the stubbornness in her daughter’s face when she had arrived at the house that night; if it had been up to her own flesh and blood, she honestly believed she would have been turfed back out on to the street.
Pearl turned slightly as she heard the household stirring. Polly had come into the kitchen carrying Lucille, and was chatting away to the little girl, who was still half asleep.
As Pearl looked into the kitchen from her perch outside, she thought to herself that her daughter had done all right for herself. She had certainly landed on her feet marrying Teddy.
Now Pearl had her own chance of a secure future with a half-decent man, and one who wasn’t going to go off and get himself killed at war. Why she wasn’t singing from the treetops and waving his letter about in glee was beyond her. She really did need to give herself a kick up the backside and, more importantly, get some money together, and get back down south. Back into her fella’s arms. She certainly wasn’t getting any younger and she would be damned if she was going to end up a wizened old woman all on her tod. She had been on her own most of her life, dragged herself along by her fingernails most of the time, without so much as a helping hand – so she did not intend to finish up old and alone. That much was for sure.