job
that was beyond Peter’s capabilities, as well as having a fund of
stories which amused Simon when he was crotchety. Despite the
terrible accounts about the dreadful conditions that were beginning
to filter home from the battlefields, life in our little backwater
was happy and productive and I felt surrounded by good friends. And
then William came home on a few days leave from the Front and he
turned everything sour.”
“Did you know he was coming
home?” Victoria asked when Nana paused. “Had he written to you or
did the army let you know?”
“No, he hadn’t written to me at
all and the army only got in touch if a soldier died or was badly
wounded. I had had no idea that he was coming home, but I must
admit that I had hardly thought about him once I opened the shop
and I hadn’t written to him. I didn’t even know where I would have
sent a letter. His home-coming was a complete surprise to me and
not a welcome one at that.”
“Why did he turn everything
sour, Nana?” Victoria asked. “Didn’t he like the fact that you’d
opened the shop?”
“To say he didn’t like me turning the house into a shop was a
massive understatement. He walked into the shop one Friday morning,
wearing his uniform, and looking as black as thunder when he saw
the customers and the walls filled with shelves.”
‘What’s going on here, Bia?’ he
growled. ‘What have you done to my house?’
“Well, that got my goat straight
away because I considered it my house now, not his. I’d earned the
money to pay the rent on it and I’d done all the work. If Simon and
I had waited for William to send money home, we’d have been evicted
months before and probably have died of starvation soon after. I
hustled him through the shop and into the kitchen, away from the
curious eyes and ears of my customers in the shop. Annie was baking
at the kitchen table and I asked her if she would go and help
Hannah serve while I had a few words with William. Cheery as ever,
she walked past William, patted him on his arm and said it was good
to see him. He didn’t have the grace to reply to her, he could
barely contain himself until she was out of the room, before he
launched into a blistering attack on me.”
‘What do you think you are
doing? How dare you turn the parlour of my house into a shop,
without even consulting with me? You have no right to do what
you’ve done. When those customers have gone, you can lock the door
and don’t ever open it again.’
“His voice was so loud; I could
imagine that they could hear it in the railway station, never mind
in the shop in the next room. I was fully aware that all
conversation had ceased in the shop and then I heard Hannah launch
into a rousing chorus of ‘God Save the King’. Silently, I thanked
her for her presence of mind and her kindness to me for what she
was trying to do before I turned on William.”
“He was standing in front of the
kitchen range, for all the world as though he was a country squire
berating the hired help, with his arm raised and his index finger
pointing towards the parlour. Despite my anger at the gall he had
to berate me, I couldn’t help but notice how ineffectual he looked,
his weedy frame not filling out the uniform he wore. He had lost
the extra weight he had carried before he left home and it made him
look like a gawky adolescent in a temper. I had never been as angry
as I was at that moment and I am sure if I had been carrying a
knife I would have slit him open from his throat to his toes. I
couldn’t stop myself from answering him, but I had the composure to
keep my voice so low that William had to strain to hear what I
said, although my actions left him in no doubt as to my frame of
mind. I had no intentions of feeding the hunger of the local
gossips, many of whom were standing in my shop trying their hardest
to hear the argument raging in the kitchen.”
“My anger was so white-hot I
pushed him backwards so that he landed in the easy chair next
that was beyond Peter’s capabilities, as well as having a fund of
stories which amused Simon when he was crotchety. Despite the
terrible accounts about the dreadful conditions that were beginning
to filter home from the battlefields, life in our little backwater
was happy and productive and I felt surrounded by good friends. And
then William came home on a few days leave from the Front and he
turned everything sour.”
“Did you know he was coming
home?” Victoria asked when Nana paused. “Had he written to you or
did the army let you know?”
“No, he hadn’t written to me at
all and the army only got in touch if a soldier died or was badly
wounded. I had had no idea that he was coming home, but I must
admit that I had hardly thought about him once I opened the shop
and I hadn’t written to him. I didn’t even know where I would have
sent a letter. His home-coming was a complete surprise to me and
not a welcome one at that.”
“Why did he turn everything
sour, Nana?” Victoria asked. “Didn’t he like the fact that you’d
opened the shop?”
“To say he didn’t like me turning the house into a shop was a
massive understatement. He walked into the shop one Friday morning,
wearing his uniform, and looking as black as thunder when he saw
the customers and the walls filled with shelves.”
‘What’s going on here, Bia?’ he
growled. ‘What have you done to my house?’
“Well, that got my goat straight
away because I considered it my house now, not his. I’d earned the
money to pay the rent on it and I’d done all the work. If Simon and
I had waited for William to send money home, we’d have been evicted
months before and probably have died of starvation soon after. I
hustled him through the shop and into the kitchen, away from the
curious eyes and ears of my customers in the shop. Annie was baking
at the kitchen table and I asked her if she would go and help
Hannah serve while I had a few words with William. Cheery as ever,
she walked past William, patted him on his arm and said it was good
to see him. He didn’t have the grace to reply to her, he could
barely contain himself until she was out of the room, before he
launched into a blistering attack on me.”
‘What do you think you are
doing? How dare you turn the parlour of my house into a shop,
without even consulting with me? You have no right to do what
you’ve done. When those customers have gone, you can lock the door
and don’t ever open it again.’
“His voice was so loud; I could
imagine that they could hear it in the railway station, never mind
in the shop in the next room. I was fully aware that all
conversation had ceased in the shop and then I heard Hannah launch
into a rousing chorus of ‘God Save the King’. Silently, I thanked
her for her presence of mind and her kindness to me for what she
was trying to do before I turned on William.”
“He was standing in front of the
kitchen range, for all the world as though he was a country squire
berating the hired help, with his arm raised and his index finger
pointing towards the parlour. Despite my anger at the gall he had
to berate me, I couldn’t help but notice how ineffectual he looked,
his weedy frame not filling out the uniform he wore. He had lost
the extra weight he had carried before he left home and it made him
look like a gawky adolescent in a temper. I had never been as angry
as I was at that moment and I am sure if I had been carrying a
knife I would have slit him open from his throat to his toes. I
couldn’t stop myself from answering him, but I had the composure to
keep my voice so low that William had to strain to hear what I
said, although my actions left him in no doubt as to my frame of
mind. I had no intentions of feeding the hunger of the local
gossips, many of whom were standing in my shop trying their hardest
to hear the argument raging in the kitchen.”
“My anger was so white-hot I
pushed him backwards so that he landed in the easy chair next
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