Getting hold of Johnathan was clearly an impossibility. In the summer he was out on the farm until darkness. So it was her mother she had to win round. Diana put the phone down and went to find her.
Caroline was rather excited by the whole thing. Diana carefully presented it as a one-off, and said she would of course ask Johnathan the minute she could get hold of him.
‘I should think he’d be rather proud. It’s not as if you’re going to be away longer than you said or anything. My goodness, how thrilling. And Jamie will be fine here with us. So yes, of course you must go and get your hair done! Ring this woman back, and don’t worry about anything.’
It was only when Diana heard her mother boasting on the phone to one of her friends when she went home to collect Jamie, that she realised that, for rather suspect reasons, her mother could become a great ally in this great new adventure she seemed to have tumbled into.
Chapter 17
1950
Biggles? Just William? The Boy’s Own Annual? Whatever did boys of nine like to read? If anything. And what about boys of six? Here she was, thinking Foyles would solve all her present problems. This was her last chance to shop before Christmas.
Jillie sighed, heard a similarly heavy one to her left and realised that a man was studying the girls’ line-up equally distractedly. She gave him a sympathetic smile and then realised he was rather familiar.
‘Oh! Hello! It’s Mr Knelston – Tom – isn’t it? What a nice surprise. You look as desperate as I am.’
‘Oh, yes, hello,’ he said and as she advanced towards him holding out her hand, he promptly dropped an armful of books on the floor.
She bent down, retrieved a couple and then said, ‘I’m Jillie – Jillie Curtis, from . . .’ She faltered, afraid she had stumbled into territory too painful for Tom to contemplate. ‘From the Elizabeth Garrett Anderson – we met last year.’
She waited for him to turn and walk away, but he did neither; he smiled his wide, oddly generous smile and said, ‘Yes, of course, I remember you. How are you, Miss Curtis? Thank you,’ he added, taking the books from her.
‘Jillie, please. I’m very well, thank you. Although I’d feel better if I knew what little boys liked to read. Do you know? Age nine and six. Just William, would they like that?’
She realised she was gabbling, just to fill the awkwardness, but he smiled again and said, ‘Oh definitely. And perhaps that boys’ album –’
‘What about Biggles?’
‘Bit grown up. And for the six-year-old, well, how about Thomas the Tank Engine?’
‘Oh, lovely! Of course. I’d never have thought of that, thank you.’
‘Pleasure. Maybe you could help me. With two girls, aged eight and nine.’
It must be so hard for him, Jillie thought.
‘Oh, at that age I loved What Katy Did. And Anne of Green Gables. And A Little Princess. They’re all ideal.’
‘Look, they’re all here, in the same section. Thank you very much. Well, that’s me settled. Are you done?’
‘I am. Now, I warn you, they have the most complicated system for actually buying a book here, but there’s no help for it.’
‘I’ll follow your lead then,’ he said. After they had stood in at least two more separate queues, they emerged into the Tottenham Court Road and, after a rather long hesitation, Tom said, ‘If you’ve got time, can I buy you a cup of tea, to say thank you?’ They went off to the rather grand Lyons Corner House on the corner of Oxford Street.
‘So what are you doing up here?’ Jillie asked after they had ordered tea and toasted teacakes. ‘It’s a long way from Southampton?’
‘I’ve moved up to London. I’m working for a solicitor in Islington and we do lots of legal aid work. Do you know about legal aid? People who can’t afford solicitors can get financial help from the government. It’s very different from my last job.’
‘In what way?’
‘Well, that was all about farm and small estate sales, lot of probate work, conveyancing of course, all very –’ He hesitated. ‘Respectable? Yes,’ Tom said and grinned. ‘It was dreadful leaving my boss, of course. He’s been so good to me, saw me as a sort of second son. But I knew Laura would have told me to move on and start again. So I moved to Herbert & Herbert. Sometimes the clients are anything but polite, but then they’re desperate, being evicted from their homes without reason, domestic violence even. It’s – well, it’s a lot more interesting and much more – lively. I do enjoy it.’
‘Good. I’m so pleased.’
‘And then I also do quite a bit of work for the Labour Party.’
‘Legal work?’
‘No. Dogsbody work. Pounding pavements. Delivering leaflets. Putting stuff in envelopes. Speaking at meetings, sometimes. We’re gearing up for the next election.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Jillie. ‘My parents have been talking about it quite a lot. They’re great socialists. Or think they are.’
‘Really?’ he said, not knowing quite how to react. ‘Anyway, Islington North is pretty solid Labour. I think we’ll get in again.’ He stopped talking, took a bite out of his teacake, then looked at her awkwardly. ‘Sorry, probably the last thing you want to talk about.’
‘No, actually my cousin, who’s a political journalist, was talking about it the other night when he came to supper.’
‘What paper is he on?’
‘The Daily News.’
Tom was momentarily stunned into silence by this piece of information; the Daily News was a paper of huge importance.
‘Which party does he think is going to get in?’ he asked.
‘The Tories. Sorry, Tom. So where do you live – have you got a house or what?’
‘I’ve got a flat. In Islington, just off the Angel. Part of a house, very small. Property’s much more expensive than it is in Hampshire. I live alone. So – what about you? Are you an important doctor now?’
‘Absolutely not. Long way to go, about two more years till I take my finals. I’ll probably fail,’ she added. ‘I’m pretty hopeless. But I have to keep trying.’
‘I’m sure you won’t fail. So where do you live?’
‘Oh, with my parents. Who live rather conveniently in Highbury. I told you, my parents are socialists.’ She grinned at him. ‘Not that you’d recognise them as such. So are most of their friends. To be quite honest, it makes me cross. They live in huge houses. Give lots of dinner parties. Employ domestic staff, make endless excuses for sending their children to expensive schools, say they’d be much happier if they were at local schools, but the education just isn’t as good and why should their children and their chances in life be sacrificed because of their principles? Anyway, I must go. I have to buy lots of cheese and olives and stuff like that. My parents are having a party on Saturday. They said I could invite a few friends of my own, so I said I’d get some of the food.’ She looked at him. ‘You – you wouldn’t like to come, would you? You’d be very welcome.’
‘It’s very kind of you, but I don’t really like parties. Laura loved them,’ he added. ‘She made me go to them with her. But I hated them, even then.’