Page 61 of The Girl from the Tea Garden (The India Tea #3)

‘She was married to my grandfather, Herbert Stock. I adored Clarrie as a child. Once a week my twin brother and I were taken to spend the day with Clarrie and Grandfather Herbert. I spent all week longing for those visits. After we started school, we saw her less often. Then Grandfather died. There was some sort of falling-out with my parents– they blamed your mother for their financial difficulties– but no doubt it was my father’s fault. He was hopeless with money.’

Adela gazed in amazement at Josey. To think she had known her mother since she was a small child! ‘Tell me more about my mother,’ she urged, ‘please.’

Josey blew out smoke, her look reflective.

‘Clarrie was more of a mother to me than my own mother ever was. Verity’s a cold fish– can’t abide children.

She hated me always asking to go and see Clarrie.

When your mother married Wesley– he was some sort of relation of my mother’s– my brother and I got a wedding invitation.

My parents were furious and threw it on the fire.

’ Josey gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I sneaked out of school and went anyway. Trouble was I’d remembered the time wrongly, and the whole thing was over by the time I got to Herbert’s Tea Rooms, and everyone had left. ’

‘Did my mother ever know that?’ Adela asked, feeling a wave of pity for the young Josey.

‘No, I just went away and never said anything. Didn’t like to approach Clarrie’s family again, ’cause I was aware how bad relations were with my parents.

But over the years I’ve popped into Herbert’s for a bite to eat and earwigged on the gossip.

Knew from that nice Lexy that Clarrie had gone abroad years ago. ’

Adela put a hand on Josey’s arm. She felt a flood of affection. ‘I’ll write and tell Mother. I bet she’ll be over the moon to hear about you.’

‘Do you think so?’ Josey looked unsure. She ground out her cigarette.

‘Yes, I am.’ Adela gave a reassuring squeeze. She felt suddenly close, delighted that they now shared a bond with her mother.

‘I did wonder,’ Josey said.

‘Wonder what?’

‘About a small gift of money I was given when I turned twenty-one.’

‘Go on.’

‘It was just at the time I was defying my mother and uncle about going abroad,’ said Josey.

‘The money was a godsend and helped me stay on at my digs while starting to act. Mother said it must be from my father, but I never believed that. I think it might have been from Clarrie and Wesley. My brother blew his amount on a brand-new Austin Windsor, which he drove into a lamp post and wrecked.’

‘I’m glad you stayed and made a go of things here.’ Adela gave a trembling smile. ‘Do you realise something?’

‘What?’ asked Josey.

‘If my father was a distant relation of your mother’s, then we must be related.’

Josey’s eyes widened. ‘So we are!’ She laughed and swung an arm about Adela’s slim shoulders. ‘My cousin Adela.’

‘My cousin Josey!’ Adela grinned, leaning into her hold and feeling her spirits lift.

Adela had been dreading June, the month of her nineteenth birthday and the first anniversary of the nightmarish tiger hunt and her father’s appalling death.

She wasn’t sleeping well and often on the point of sleep was disturbed by vivid flashes of memory that left her shaking and upset.

Worse were the dreams that she could tell no one, for they were about her baby.

They were filled with panic– Adela trying to hide him away– and then she’d wake with a start to find him not there.

She’d get out of bed, restless with a feeling of loss, and gaze out of the window, wondering what had happened to him.

Sometimes the impulse to find out was so strong that she had to grip the windowsill to stop herself running out into the night to search for him.

‘You’re grinding yer teeth at night,’ Lexy told her in concern. ‘Perhaps you should get yoursel’ to the doctors for a bit o’ sedative.’

But Adela refused, not wanting to have to explain her shameful secrets to anyone else.

It was Josey who saved her sanity. In Herbert’s granddaughter she had found a kindred spirit: someone who enjoyed life, the theatre and having fun, as well as being a link to her parents.

It was Josey who got her through midsummer with her humour and kindness, keeping her busy at the theatre and protecting her like an older sister.

She introduced Adela to her eccentric friends at the rambling house on Westgate Road and their welcoming landlady, Florence.

It turned out that she too had known Adela’s mother in the early days of Herbert’s Tea Rooms.

‘Clarrie was wonderful to us suffragists,’ Florence enthused. ‘She let us use Herbert’s for our protest on Census Night before the war. And we often met in her café to discuss tactics, and she’d send over extra cake to keep us going. You will send my fondest regards, won’t you, dear?’

Adela thirsted for these stories of her mother; they made her feel closer to her faraway parent.

She wrote letters home telling Clarrie about Josey and Florence.

Her mother wrote back, thrilled at the news and sending her love and greetings, especially to Josey.

She admitted that the modest amount of trust money had been her idea, and Wesley had arranged it.

But nowhere in her letters did Clarrie encourage Adela to come home.

Quite the opposite. Yet she kept to herself how upsetting it was that her mother was still pushing her away.

I’m glad things are working out for you in Newcastle and that you are having some fun along the way.

It was the right thing for you to go. Stick in at the theatre; you never know what might come of it.

I get quite nostalgic at the thought of you sharing the flat with Lexy.

What a great friend she has been to us both.

You don’t say much about Olive and the family any more. I hope everything is all right with the Brewises. You would tell me if there was anything to worry about, wouldn’t you? Give them my love as always ...

This galvanised Adela into calling on her aunt.

She had only made one brief, awkward visit to Lime Terrace since she had returned to Newcastle, to tell Olive in confidence that the problem of the unwanted baby had been taken care of.

She had invited her aunt to a birthday tea at Herbert’s on 13 June that Lexy and Jane had organised, but Olive had not come.

One late June evening she took Josey round to meet Olive and Jack.

Adela’s uncle was bashful but welcoming. ‘Josephine Stock! I remember you from family gatherings at Summerhill. Full of chat. And good at sharing the toys with our George– not like your twin brother.’

Olive seemed agitated by the appearance of someone from her past.

‘Your mam and dad never made a secret of how they looked down their noses at the likes of us,’ she said.

‘Sounds like them,’ Josey said, not taking offence. ‘I remember you doing lovely drawings. Do you still draw, MrsBrewis?’

‘No, not for years.’

‘And those paintings in the café – you did those, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but I’m not well enough now.’

‘Pity,’ said Josey. ‘You’ve got such talent. If you ever decide you want to paint again, we’d love some paintings to hang in the theatre. We encourage local artists, as well as actors.’

‘That would be canny,’ said Jack, ‘if you picked up a paintbrush again.’

‘It’s not that easy,’ Olive said, her hands squirming in her lap. ‘You all talk as if it was easy.’

Adela wished she’d made sure George was at home before calling. He would have lightened the atmosphere. She quickly diverted the conversation. ‘We wondered if you’d both like to come to see the play Josey is in next week. I’ve got you complimentary tickets.’

Neither her aunt nor uncle looked enthusiastic. Jack put on a show of being pleased.

‘That’s very kind.’

‘You know I can’t go to crowded places,’ Olive said with an expression of panic.

‘Perhaps George would like to take Joan,’ Jack suggested.

Adela left the tickets on the table. ‘Whatever you decide is fine,’ she said and smiled, not wanting to make her uncle feel uncomfortable. She made excuses to leave quickly. Outside, as they walked away, she apologised to Josey.

‘Sorry for dragging you along. I thought it might help my aunt to meet someone from the past– something to spark her interest. She’s almost a recluse these days.’

‘I don’t remember Olive well– except that she had beautiful red-gold hair– but she was nothing like that frightened skinny woman in there.’

‘That’s it,’ agreed Adela. ‘Everything seems to frighten her.’

‘How sad,’ said Josey, linking an arm through Adela’s. ‘But whatever your aunt’s problems are, you are not to blame for them. Come on, we’ve a show to put on.’

The People’s Theatre group played all week to packed audiences.

Adela helped as much in the preparation as she could, though her job at the Essoldo meant that she missed most of the performances.

The Wednesday matinee was her afternoon off, and so she determined to watch the play herself that day.

A hurried note from Florence came to Herbert’s that morning, where she was helping Lexy serve breakfasts.

‘Josey has been sick all night. She’s asking if you could possibly stand in for her this afternoon.’

‘Poor Josey,’ said Adela in concern.

‘Aye,’ said Lexy, ‘but this is your big chance to shine on stage. Take that pinny off and get yoursel’ up to the theatre.’

Derek’s grumbling at the last-minute change was half-hearted; he had watched Adela rehearsing the part with Josey and already knew she was capable of doing a cheeky, flirtatious Louka.

In his opinion, Josey was a talented character actress carrying off her role with the force of her personality rather than her looks.

Adela– if she didn’t get stage fright– would be funny, as well as engaging to look at.