Chapter 20
When finally Clementine got back to the flat, having stopped off at Fenwick for pyjamas and a new blouse and some decent stockings, the air was filled with the smell of sausages and Alfie was pounding away at a pan of potatoes listening to jazz on the wireless.
He dropped everything as Clementine came in.
‘How did it go?’
‘Dr Shaw’s given me a clean bill of health. We’ve got to carry on as if nothing ever happened and just … see.’ She gave a little shrug, and a bright smile.
Alfie pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head. She could feel the relief, flowing from her to him and back again.
‘What do you think?’ asked Alfie, turning back to the stove and scooping out a spoonful of mash for her to taste.
‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘No lumps, nice and buttery.’
‘Though maybe we should go out to celebrate?’
‘No. I can’t think of anything nicer than staying in with bangers and mash.’
Alfie had been brushing up on his cooking skills since Clementine had moved into the flat.
He’d gone out of his way to turn it from a bachelor pad into something more welcoming.
He’d bought some cushions, and a wireless, and new plates and cups, and there was a bowl of rosy apples and he always lit a fire.
She loved being at Foxwood but it was rather sweet, being all cosy just the two of them.
She still felt a little raw after the baby thing, and didn’t want to go out on the town, bumping into people they knew.
All she wanted to do was kick off her shoes and flop into a chair.
It had been a curious day, and she hadn’t realised how worried she’d been about what the doctor might say.
Alfie had wanted to come with her but she’d said no, she’d be fine, and had made light of it, but actually she’d secretly feared Dr Shaw might find something terribly wrong, so to know there was nothing awry was a huge relief.
It was the first time in her life, as an adult, she’d felt vulnerable and not quite in control.
Over supper at the tiny kitchen table, squashed right up next to each other, they talked about the Snow Ball.
‘I was only young for the last one,’ said Alfie. ‘Me and Freddie drank far too much cider cup and I was sick in the hydrangeas. Mum was furious. I can hold my drink a lot better these days.’
‘I think it’s a great undertaking for her. She’s so excited. She’s planning a pow-wow over Sunday lunch so we can delegate who does what. And work out the guest list.’
‘That’ll be a minefield. They always are. Isn’t that why we stuck to a small wedding?’
Clementine laughed. It absolutely was. She finished her sausage and put her knife and fork together. She had to say something now or it would be too late. Maybe there would be an explanation?
‘Alfie …’ she said, and he looked at her in alarm.
‘What is it?’
‘I saw something strange on the train on the way up.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘A woman with a small boy. Alf, he looked just like Edwin. Well, you and Edwin. He was the spitting image of you both.’
Alfie laughed. ‘How funny. Lucky boy.’ His tone was light. Perhaps too light.
‘And he was called Ted.’ She paused. ‘That could be short for Edwin, couldn’t it?’
‘Or Edward. Or Edmund. Or Theodore.’ Alfie frowned. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at?’
There was a trace of tension in his voice.
‘And the woman. She had a ring just like yours.’ Clementine reached over and tapped the ring on his little finger. ‘It was on a chain round her neck.’
His face gave nothing away as he glanced at the ring. ‘Lots of people have signet rings.’
‘But it had a pelican on it. That’s unusual, isn’t it?’
‘It’s just a coincidence, I’m sure.’
‘I don’t know. It seems strange. She was very lovely. She had the most incredible red hair.’
Alfie grabbed her plate and piled it on top of his. ‘There’s some tinned fruit salad, if you’d like it.’ He stood up and took the plates over to the sink.
‘Don’t you think we should try and find out who they are?’ Clementine persisted.
‘Why on earth would we do that?’
‘If you’d seen him—’
‘You can’t go poking about in people’s private lives, Clem. Just because they look like someone.’
He seemed irritated, and definitely wanted the subject closed.
Was it because she’d brought up Edwin, or did he know something more?
Clementine wondered if she should push it further, then decided not to.
For the time being, anyway. This was her and Alfie’s first night together after their good news. It would be crass of her to spoil it.
Some up-tempo South American jazz came on the wireless.
Alfie started dancing along. ‘That reminds me – there’s a fantastic band I’ve seen at the Flamingo Club a few times,’ he said.
‘The Havana Brothers All Star Jazz Band. I’ll see if I can get them to come down for the ball. They’ll get the joint jumping.’
Clementine put the train encounter out of her mind and joined in, singing along, and soon they were dancing away together, waving their arms in the air and clicking their fingers.
When the song finished they collapsed onto each other, laughing, gazing into each other’s eyes.
She could feel his heartbeat, and the heat of him.
‘We don’t have to do anything yet,’ Alfie said to her. ‘If you don’t want to.’
‘Do anything?’ She frowned at him.
‘You know. In bed. We can wait.’
‘Wait?’ she said. ‘Absolutely not. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us. I’m not waiting any longer.’