CHAPTER 2

Fortunately, way up in the attic sound was insulated from the rooms below. Look around the room and you would be surprised how spacious it was. Taking up virtually the whole area the bedroom seemed to meander around the roof timbers. A wide corner had been reserved for the unusually large bathroom that fitted snugly between the roof slopes. From the large dormer window, over the roofs of the houses behind, the sea was just visible crashing onto the pebble stones piling them high against the tall wooden quoins. Seagulls, with their continuously annoying squawking, plagued the chimneys, competed with hordes of pigeons for space on what in the bird world might be considered luxury perches. The two-seater sofa, sitting along one wall, looked inadequate in the large space. At that point the wall lacked height as the ceiling followed the line of the rafters. Against what would be the gable wall a wide bed stretched into the room. The covers pale pink. The curtains pale pink. The paintwork white and fresh. The carpet, a restful light blue, clean and recently vacuumed. In fact the whole room a stark contrast to the generally dilapidated building.

  It was her space. Deidre Donovan’s place of comfort. Refusing to adopt her mother’s pathetic attempt at respectability she had retained her father’s surname. And that was not all she preserved. She had the determined resilience and quick temper inherited from her father’s Irish ancestors. Something he had neglected to take on but that she wished he had discovered. Her space. Won through doggedly refusing to bend to her mother’s will until she had been moved from the hot dreary room next to that dear old cook and allowed to convert the attic into her domain at her mother’s expense. And that, of course, nearly broke her mother’s heart. 

When her father went off to war the few ladies who moved in, with their red lipstick and skimpy clothes, saw to most things. Then there was the maid. A loose term for a grumpy old witch with a foul mouth and vicious tongue. After that, at fifteen, when her schooling ended, she assumed the role of general do all. Clean, wait on tables, change beds in fact everything that Gloria did not do and that was basically nothing that did not involve paper and money saving and making initiatives.  

As Dee drifted more towards the end of her teens her resistance grew. Now she more than endured. She had her space and after seven in the evening had somewhere she could find solitude until the day began again just before breakfast. That did not mean she lacked ambition. She did get paid slightly more than a pittance and was saving. A time was rapidly approaching when she would have more than enough to escape her mother’s clutches. She had plans and that included a sudden influx of cash that soon would make all the difference. 

 

Derek objected, with a kind of subdued stubbornness, to being compelled to return to the kitchen but the argument was abrupt and had finished with the usual conclusion. With Gloria hovering, Derek warmed a bowl of beef stew, pierced a small tin of potatoes and one of carrots and put the tins in a saucepan of boiling water. Ten minutes later Gloria delivered a steaming dish, with an unhealthy appearance, to the dining room conveniently part backing onto the kitchen. Put it on a table by the French doors with a knife, fork and condiments. Proceeded to the sitting room to collect Dexter, dragging him away from what sounded like salesman talk, and apologised for the wait.   

Leaving Dexter poking with the fork and trying to identify the strange smell, Gloria climbed the stairs that snaked up the side wall of the wide, tall building. On each floor, four-bedroom doors opened from a square landing. The guests shared one small bathroom on each floor created by stealing space from two adjacent bedrooms. With two bedrooms on the ground floor sharing an even smaller WC the total of ten rooms probably made the optimum for virtually uninterrupted occupancy. In the extremely rare event that one of the ground floor residents wanted a bath they had to use an upstairs bathroom. Apart from the challenge of climbing possibly two flights of stairs there existed the problem of order. The house rule was that the bathrooms on each floor were used in room number order. For a ground floorer to break into this routine generally made the effort not worthwhile. Besides, hot bath water supplied from the gas heater hanging over the bath cost a whopping shilling extra. In Gloria’s world nothing was wasted, no opportunity missed and that included hot bath water and a desire to avoid costly repairs from water damage caused by overflowing baths. 

She stopped to take a breather on the second-floor landing. Not because she lacked puff but to gather herself for what was sure to be an ordeal. Dee would definitely not take too kindly to being dislodged. Particularly displaced to Gloria's domain. A small flat above the kitchen in the rear addition. Two rooms. One a bedroom and one a sitting room with a comfy floral sofa, radiogram, drinks cabinet containing mostly gin and a bookshelf with an abundance of Christie novels. The bathroom tucked onto the landing at the top of its own staircase at the rear of the main hall adjacent to the kitchen. 

Puffing up her chest she continued up. Knocked on the door then regretted it. She never knocked. Dee would be suspicious. 

The words that greeted her were no surprise. “Oh, what do you want now?” Dee wearily said. The last thing she needed was an argument. Her attitude made a point of making sure her mother knew she was not welcome. 

Dee sat propped up on the bed, the last of the sunshine catching her hair. Blonde, long and wavy. Freshly washed. The smell of shampoo still permeated the room. As Dee stared towards the door all of a sudden Gloria felt her heart skip an extremely unfamiliar beat. She was struck by how beautiful her daughter had suddenly become. She had not noticed before but… with the sunlight in her hair… The hot water glow still lingering. Dee’s blue eyes flashed with what might have been a smile but more likely simply conveyed an indication some winding up was going on in preparation for the heated argument Gloria imminently expected. Her thoughts lingered. Regret? Just maybe. Perhaps there was the minutest part of a lost feeling recovering its place in her distorted view of the world. 

“A late arrival has turned up,” she said, trying to smile apologetically but knew she failed miserably. 

Dee said, putting a sharp edge on her voice, “So, we are full, aren’t we? We usually are.”  

“He looked lost…” 

“You’re not starting to be nice, are you?” frowned Dee, flashing her eyes to pierce Gloria’s subtle frown. 

“No, but he looked desperate.” 

With a half smile Dee huffed, “So, you always just kick them right out onto the street with no mercy.” 

There was no option. Gloria took the plunge, “I told him he could have your room.” 

“You did what?” Dee snapped and sat up straight, eyes glaring. “How dare you.” 

“Your room. It’s the only option.” Gloria replied. She tried to be forceful but suspected it fell a bit flat. 

“And what about me?” 

“You can share with me.” 

“What… no way. You stink of gin,” Dee yelled. 

“Just for tonight. I promise.” Gloria stalled yet again. A promise. Now that really was unheard of. 

“No way,” Dee yelled again. 

“I’ve already told him.” 

“Then untell him… After all you’re a master at being vicious, aren't you?” Dee spat out the words so full of menace that they could cut through ice. 

“He’s eating dinner though.” 

“Is that what it’s called?” said Dee with what could have been a laugh if it was not so tinged with sarcasm. 

“I’m not throwing him out.” Gloria barked. She had got over her initial reluctance and now started to assert her authority. Then abruptly stopped and thought there might be a big advantage to offer something, “What will it take?” she said, lowering her voice to a smooth purr. 

Dee thought, Being offered something. This is new ground. She knew she would have to eventually give in. Normally she would drag it out. Make her mother exert her full wrath until they were nose to nose spitting in each other's faces. But this time she should make the most of an opportunity. So she said, “Promise you’ll treat Derek better.” 

That took Gloria completely by surprise. An unselfish act was so alien to her. Was that a sudden admiration? Who knows. In any event she smiled a smile with a devious tinge and simply said, “If that’s what it’ll take.” 

“You mean it? And not just for now. For always.” 

“I mean it. For always. Cross my heart” 

“That doesn’t work, does it? You haven’t got one… Try again.” 

Gloria sighed. The little trollop does like to draw it out, “Okay, I mean it and I swear on your father’s grave… wherever that is.” That’ll do it for sure and it’ll hit a nerve and just inflict a bit of pain. Inwardly she grinned knowing she had won. 

“You can be really nasty, can’t you?... Okay then. I’ll sleep on your sofa. How’s that?” 

And Gloria found herself speaking the fourth uncustomary words of the evening, “Thank you. I’ll tell him the room will be ready in what, thirty minutes?” 

“Tell him what you like. I’ll be gone in fifteen.” 

Gloria left thinking, That was not so bad. Smart move that. This girl’s finally growing up and gaining real teeth. I’ll need more than threats of beatings to keep her in line. Now I can dangle Derek in her face. She likes him and will do what she can to protect him. Yes, that was a really smart move.