Chapter 25
Two days later, Clementine stood on the side of the road opposite Breverton Infants and watched the children arrive.
It was a traditional little school, just off the high street, built in Somerset stone.
In the playground, the boys oafed about, tripping each other up and grabbing each other from behind, while the girls hooked arms and shared secrets.
She wondered if perhaps she would be ushering her own children to the gate one day.
After all, Edwin and Alfie had gone here when they were small, before heading off to prep school and then Haileybury, and Alfie had said he loved it.
‘I was furious to be taken away, but you know how it is. I made lots of friends I still see at the Trout sometimes, and I always had people to play with in the school holidays.’
At last, here they were, Stella and Ted, galloping along the road, hand in hand, Stella with her hair streaming out behind her, the two of them laughing, seemingly not bothered that they were about to be late as the final bell clanged.
His satchel bounced along on his hip, and his coat flapped around him.
They looked as if they hadn’t a care in the world as she hustled him through the entrance marked BOYS.
Clementine pulled her hat down over her eyes, aware that she probably looked like someone who was trying very hard not to be noticed.
She stood behind a tree for a few minutes, waiting until Stella reappeared and set off back up the road that led to the high street, over the bridge and a little way out of town before disappearing off to the left, along the canal.
Clementine hung back a bit, conscious that it would be hard to find a valid reason to be heading down the towpath if Stella turned around.
Luckily Stella was walking with purpose, her hands in her pockets.
Every now and then she gave a little skip, as if she was excited about something, and for a moment Clementine thought about turning back.
Who was she to crash into Stella’s world and turn it upside down?
She couldn’t turn back. She’d gone over and over the conundrum in her mind countless times since she’d fallen across Stella and Ted the week before.
She couldn’t do nothing. It would be awful to ignore their existence, carrying on in the heart of the Arbutus family knowing they were nearby.
For her own peace of mind, she had to find out the truth.
They’d been walking for a good ten minutes when up ahead she saw a green and gold narrowboat come into view.
Stella jumped onto the deck and disappeared inside.
Was this where she and Ted were living? Clementine slowed down, and at the same time her heart speeded up.
This was it, the moment when she decided what to do.
Did she have the nerve to confront Stella?
Although confront was too strong a word – she had every intention of going into this as gently as she could.
She didn’t want to cause Stella any distress.
She told herself if she thought too much about it she would turn tail.
She jumped up on the deck and tapped on the window of the door leading down to the cabin.
A moment later Stella came to the door and pushed it open.
She gazed at Clementine, puzzled, as if trying to work out where she’d seen her. Then her face brightened.
‘You’re the lady on the train.’
‘Yes. Sorry. This is a bit odd. But I wanted to talk to you about something.’
Stella frowned. She was obviously trying to work out what on earth she was doing here, and how she had found her way to the boat.
‘My name’s Clementine.’ It was time to come clean. ‘Clementine Arbutus.’
Stella’s eyes hardened as she heard the name.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, her voice wary.
‘Just to talk to you,’ Clementine replied. ‘I don’t mean any harm. I promise you. Can I come in? Can we chat?’
Stella shut her eyes, as if she was in physical pain. She had every right to slam the door on Clementine, but, eventually, she nodded, turned to go back into the cabin and gestured for Clementine to follow.
‘This is lovely,’ Clementine said, looking around. There were pictures everywhere, drawings and sketches and studies, and she recognised Edwin’s hand. There were other pictures too, sketches of tiny children peering out from hedgerows and riverbanks. This must be Stella’s work.
‘It’s small. But it’s our home.’ Stella picked up a copper kettle. ‘Can I make you tea?’
‘Thank you. Yes.’ She tried hard not to be nosy, but she was taking in everything.
Their breakfast things still in the sink.
Neat piles of clothes. Ted’s toy soldiers, and his teddy on the bed.
A typewriter on the small table. Their whole life seemed to be in here.
‘I’m married to Edwin Arbutus’s younger brother. Alfie.’
‘I see.’ Stella made no attempt to feign puzzlement.
Clementine imagined she was turning everything over in her head, working out what to say.
She’d been cornered, but she could tell Stella was someone who was used to difficult situations.
She was a survivor, cunning and wily, no doubt, but not, she suspected, devious.
She was composed, and had put up a barrier, but that was no surprise.
All Clementine had to do was gain her trust.
‘When I saw you both on the train,’ she began, ‘when I saw Ted, there was no mistaking him … He’s Edwin’s, isn’t he?’
Stella was pouring hot water into a stout brown teapot.
‘I always knew he’d be the giveaway,’ she said.
‘He started looking so like Edwin when he started to sprout, when he turned six. Before that he was just a chubby little boy. But now …’ She faltered, overcome with emotion. ‘He looks so like him.’
Clementine knew it was her turn to keep quiet. Stella pulled two cups down from a shelf and set them down next to the pot.
‘Edwin never knew about Ted. When he died, it was months before I realised I was expecting. I was so wrapped up in my grief I didn’t notice the signs. But it’s not as if I was the only woman having a child alone, thanks to the war. And I was glad, to have something to remember him by …’
‘Oh, Stella.’
Stella looked surprised. ‘You know my name?’
Clementine blushed. ‘I looked in your bag. Sorry.’
She shrugged, as if it was nothing. ‘Fair enough.’ Her tone was dry.
‘So how did you end up here?’
‘He gave me the key to the boat – somewhere to run to if things got bad.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘I never ran here, not during any of the bombing. You have to face up to the enemy, don’t you? But I knew this was the best place to bring up Ted.’
‘You were together for a long time, then?’
There was a fleeting smile. ‘No. For the most part, we were just friends.’ She poured the tea out, added milk, then handed a cup to Clementine. ‘It was only one night. The last night I saw him …’
Clementine sipped at her tea to give herself time to think.
Stella was leaning back against the counter that ran under one window and served as a kitchen area.
She really was stunning, thought Clementine – tall, with that wild red hair and pale skin and silver eyes that seemed to look through you.
Strength radiated off her – she had an East End carapace that screamed at you not to meddle with her.
Yet there was vulnerability too, and a big heart.
Her love for both Edwin and Ted shone out of her.
She only had to mention them, and it was there in her eyes.
‘So how are you managing? Are you all right?’
‘We’re fine.’ Her voice was a little too bright, perhaps.
‘It must be hard, on your own.’
‘Sometimes it’s tough, when it’s bloody freezing or when the money runs out.’ She seemed to be about to say something else, then thought better of it. ‘But we manage.’ She put down her cup. ‘So what is it you want?’
There was challenge in her voice, and her body language, and Clementine knew whatever she said now, she had to be careful.
‘The last thing I want to do is interfere in your life. I completely respect your privacy.’
‘Except when you look in my bag.’
Clementine looked shamefaced. ‘When I saw you on the train, and put two and two together, I couldn’t ignore it.
It would have been none of my business, except that I’m married to Edwin’s brother.
’ The next bit was the tricky bit. ‘You must understand how terrible losing Edwin was for the whole family. And to know he had a son … I think they have a right to know about Ted, Stella.’
Stella was implacable, her face as still and cold as porcelain, but she was twisting her fingers, winding them round each other.
‘I think it would mean the world,’ Clementine stumbled on. ‘Especially to Edwin’s mother. Losing a child is a terrible thing. But to know she had a grandchild. It would bring her such joy.’
There was silence in the little cabin. The temperature seemed to have dropped.
‘So are you going to tell them about us?’
‘Absolutely not.’ Clementine was very definite. ‘As I said, I respect your privacy, and your wishes. It’s completely up to you. But if you would like to meet them, I can help you.’
‘I did think about it,’ admitted Stella. ‘When Ted was first born. But I thought they wouldn’t believe me. Turning up on the doorstep and claiming the baby was Edwin’s. It’s an old trick, isn’t it?’
‘Is it?’
‘Course. And if they did believe me, I worried they might take over. Even worse, they might take him off me. People like that have power. They have friends in high places. All they’d have to do is prove I was unfit, and I’d never see him again.’
‘Stella, that’s a terrible thing to think. Of course they’d never do that.’
Stella gave her a pitying look. ‘You’ve got no idea, have you? How the world works when you’re not one of them?’
‘Maybe not, but I do know they are decent people who would never take a child away from its mother.’