After the Rain
Table of Contents
A Selection of Recent Titles by Nicola Thorne
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Author’s Foreword
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
A Selection of Recent Titles by Nicola Thorne
THE PEOPLE OF THIS PARISH SERIES
THE PEOPLE OF THIS PARISH (Book I)
THE RECTOR’S DAUGHTER (Book II)
IN THIS QUIET EARTH (Book III) *
PAST LOVE (Book IV)*
A TIME OF HOPE (Book V)*
IN TIME OF WAR (Book VI)*
THE BROKEN BOUGH SERIES
THE BROKEN BOUGH *
THE BLACKBIRD’S SONG *
THE WATER’S EDGE *
OH HAPPY DAY *
AFTER THE RAIN *
COPPITTS GREEN *
A FAMILY AFFAIR *
HAUNTED LANDSCAPE *
THE HOLLY TREE *
THE HOUSE BY THE SEA *
THE LITTLE FLOWERS *
ON A DAY LIKE TODAY *
REPOSSESSION *
RETURN TO WUTHERING HEIGHTS *
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT *
* available from Severn House
AFTER THE RAIN
Nicola Thorne
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First world edition published 2012
in Great Britain and in the USA by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.
Copyright © 2012 by Nicola Thorne.
All rights reserved.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Thorne, Nicola.
After the rain.
1. Wellington (N.Z.)--Social conditions--20th century--
Fiction.
I. Title
823.9'14-dc23
ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-301-3 (epub)
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8193-9 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-446-2 (trade paper)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.
Dedicated to the memory of my mother who was born in New Zealand
and always felt like an exile from her native land.
Author’s Foreword
I was a small child when I visited Wellington with my mother, who had left after her marriage to my father and settled in England. So in writing this book I have been greatly assisted by my New Zealand first cousin Dolores Watson, daughter of my mother’s eldest brother, and her husband Robin whose hobby is genealogy. But for their patience, enthusiasm and, above all, persistence in unearthing all sorts of obscure and interesting facts for me about family history and life in the twenties this novel would have been impossible. They even read the typescript for me, making more valuable suggestions. I owe them an enormous debt and I cannot thank them enough.
Nicola Thorne
One
1921. Wellington, New Zealand
Lottie, summoned to stay behind after school, looked anxiously at her class teacher perched on her high stool behind her desk. Miss Carson was correcting a pile of exercise books and finished her task before putting down her pencil, upon which her rather stern features relaxed into a smile.
‘Don’t look so frightened, Lottie. I just wanted to have a talk with you.’
With one of the exercise books in her hand, Miss Carson got down from her stool and, taking Lottie by the arm, led her to the front row of desks where each took a seat facing the other. She opened the exercise book and spread it out on her lap. Looking at the book, Lottie’s sense of apprehension deepened.
‘I want to talk to you about your essay.’ Miss Carson gave a reassuring smile. ‘It is very good indeed.’
‘That’s a relief.’ Lottie brushed back her hair, returning the smile, her tense body beginning to visibly relax. ‘I wondered what you were going to say.’
‘I was also going to say that I was concerned to learn from the Head that you want to leave school at the end of the year?’
Lottie nodded.
‘I think that’s a very big mistake.’
‘I don’t want to leave, miss, but my mother wants me to take a job.’ Lottie bent her head in an effort to conceal the fact that she was blushing. Then she raised it again and looked straight at her form teacher. ‘Since Dad came back from the war he hasn’t had a job. Times are very difficult, Miss Carson. We need the money.’
Miss Carson also coloured. ‘I appreciate that, Lottie. But if you had some kind of profession you would earn more money and be in a better position to help your family. You’re nearly sixteen so there’s not much longer to go.’
Lottie shook her head but said nothing.
‘For instance,’ Miss Carson continued, ‘if you took the high school examinations you could become a teacher or a doctor. Think of how proud your family would be of you then, and you would also earn more money and be in a much better position to help them.’
Lottie’s eyes gleamed with excitement. ‘I’ll ask my mum.’
‘Would you like me to talk to her if she says no?’
‘Perhaps. I must go now, miss. Bella will be waiting outside for me.’
Miss Carson got to her feet and put her hand on Lottie’s shoulder. ‘I would hate for one of my best pupils to miss a chance to better her life. What a waste it would be.’
‘I’ll ask my mum, I promise.’
Bella, Lottie’s younger sister, was waiting outside in the playground kicking her heels in front of her, a sulky expression on her face. She was eleven, almost five years younger than Lottie, on whom she was very dependent, although she was perfectly capable of going home on her own as it was only a short distance from the school. When she saw the bright, eager expression on her sister’s face her expression hardened and became even more petulant. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Sorry.’ In an ebullient mood, Lottie reached for her hand. ‘Miss Carson wanted to see me.’
‘Are you in trouble?’
‘Not at all. She wants me to stay on at school, says perhaps I could become a teacher or a doctor.’
‘But Mum says you are leaving.’
‘I thought I was leaving. Wait until we get home and see what she says.’
‘She won’t be pleased, if you ask me.’
The euphoric expression vanished from Lottie’s face as they drew nearer home. ‘I don’t think she will be very pleased either. But Miss Carson says if I get a better job we’ll get more money and . . . Well, we must wait and see.’ She suddenly felt more apprehensive than excited and slowed her pace.
Home was a terraced house in Mount Cook, a rather poor, downtrodden part of Wellington, where the family had lived all their lives. The houses were so close together that you could reach out and touch the one next door. The front door of each led directly on to the street and at the back was a small yard, usually with a single washing line strung across, and an outdoor toilet. Lottie’s mother, Ada, who considered she had married beneath her, had always hated the area, resenting her modest house in a mean, shabby street. To Lottie, however, it was home, and she threw open the front door to tell her news.
As usual, her father, Desmond, was slumped in front of the fire, his paper on his chest as though he had fallen asleep, but he started up as she came in, rubbing his eyes as he looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.
Her father had served right through the war, surviving until the end, but he had returned home a virtual invalid with chronic breathing problems which prevented him from working. As a result Ada, who already took in washing to help the family, had started cleaning the houses of the more affluent, often having to cross Wellington in order to do so. She was a permanently dissatisfied woman who felt she had been dealt a bad hand by life, and accordingly her family suffered from her frequent ill-tempered outbursts.
Lottie and Bella divested themselves of their coats and hats as Ada came in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her cloth, her habitual harassed expression on her face. ‘You’re very late,’ she said, looking at the clock.
‘Miss Carson wanted to see me!’ Lottie burst out. ‘So I had to stay behind.’
‘I hope you haven’t been in any trouble.’
‘No . . .’ Rather breathlessly, Lottie sat at the table, glancing first at her father wheezing away in his chair while her mother
stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen. ‘Miss Carson wants me to stay on at school! She says I could be a doctor or a teacher.’
Lottie paused as she took in the expressions on her parents’ faces. They were very different. Her father’s was one of surprise, her mother’s of incredulity bordering on anger.
‘And when are you going to be a doctor or a teacher, may I ask?’ Ada folded her arms in a familiar and forbidding pose and leaned against the door. She looked tired to the point of exhaustion: grey-faced and older than her thirty-six years.
‘After I’ve studied.’ Lottie paused uncertainly and looked placatingly at her mother. ‘Perhaps being a teacher would be better?’ she ventured at last.
‘And how long do you think this will take?’
Sensing her mother’s hostility, which was not unexpected, Lottie now was reduced to silence, but her mouth set in a stubborn line.
‘You want to forget all this nonsense,’ Ada said, ‘and find a job as soon as you can after school ends. Mrs Ellis knows plenty of ladies who need cleaners so you won’t be out of a job for long, and you’ll be bringing in money, my girl, of which there is a short supply in this house. Now come and get your tea.’ She looked over at her husband and said sharply, ‘Desmond, did you hear? Tea’s ready; get up.’
Lottie lay in bed that night, reviewing the events of the day. She knew she was clever at school and she enjoyed her work. Not only was she a favourite of Miss Carson, but also of some of the other teachers who, knowing her background, admired her. Poverty was not unusual in the Mount Cook area of Wellington and many of the homes of the children had been affected by large-scale unemployment and the aftermath of the war. But Lottie was exceptionally bright and had an engaging personality; besides which she was a tall, attractive girl with thick, fair hair that in the sunshine seemed tinted with gold, deep-set blue eyes and a fine bone structure. In appearance she took after Ada before the rigours of her life had claimed and embittered her, destroying her looks.
If Lottie was aware of all these things she was unspoilt by them, her vanity kept in check by the hostility of her mother, who clearly preferred docile, obedient Bella but doted above all on their young brother, Jack who, at just eight years old, had no memory of his father until he came home from the war. Jack was a very small child, very beautiful with large blue eyes, a head full of fair, bubbly curls, a cheeky, waspish smile, and above all a sweet, lovable nature. Although he was very much his mother’s boy, because he always did what he was told, he was adored by his sisters, who also spoilt and protected him.
Perhaps Ada resented her elder daughter’s independent nature, her academic success, her closeness to her father. Perhaps, in many ways, they were too alike and this caused an ongoing conflict between them which had been accentuated since her father had returned from the war. He was a sick man, depressed and deeply disillusioned, not only by his experiences on the Western Front but by the subsequent treatment by the government of the men who had travelled all that way and undergone so much suffering, and in many cases death, for another country, to which many of them felt no allegiance at all.
In the bed beside her Bella stirred and gave a little sigh, as though the events of the day and the subsequent storm that simmered throughout the evening had disturbed her, too.
In the dark Lottie turned towards her sister, sensing she might be awake, but she seemed fast asleep. She was very protective towards Bella, who was totally unable to defend herself against their mother’s frequent onslaughts and outbursts.
Although smaller-boned and petite, Bella was every bit as attractive as Lottie: fair-haired and blue-eyed, with a very pale, translucent complexion. However, in character, although she appeared mild and docile, she had a stubborn streak and was capable of outbursts of temper every bit as violent and unpredictable as her mother.
It was not a happy home and Lottie longed to leave it, but knew she was trapped by her loyalty to her father, sister and her little brother, all of whom were dependent in various ways on her as being the only one able to stand up to Ada and protect them from her erratic and uneven moods.
Also, in a way that was hard to explain, she felt trapped by the grudging respect she had for her mother because she had worked so hard to keep the family together to enable it to survive away from the workhouse. Particularly during the war, when she was the only breadwinner, that was very difficult indeed. She could understand her mother’s anxiety that she should contribute to the family income, especially after her father had proved unfit to work when he returned from the war a broken man.
Yet to be a teacher, like Miss Carson . . . an ambition which she had never consciously entertained, except in her dreams. Perhaps that was something that would indeed eventually be of greater help to the family than being a drudge, cleaning the houses of other people in Island Bay. Maybe, with two incomes, they would be able to move to a nicer area, have a house with a garden, an indoor toilet – perhaps even a bathroom – and have the sort of better life to which her mother she knew, above all, aspired.
Ada had on her best hat for the interview with Miss Carson which was eventually arranged, somewhat to Lottie’s surprise. Miss Carson had handled the whole thing both well and delicately, writing first to her parents to explain the benefits of further education and invite them to come and see her.
Naturally, Ada, who wanted to be in control of the situation, left Desmond at home and Lottie had to wait outside the room in which the meeting took place. Ada intended to take the lead, to be outspoken, even aggressive, but was seduced, as so many people were, not only by Miss Carson’s persuasive charm but also the ease with which she got her word in first. She began by telling Ada how much she sympathized with her and what a wonderful job she had done and how grateful they should be to her for keeping the family together while her husband went to war.
Thus Ada had the wind taken out of her sails almost before she had time to get started with her objections. She even felt a sneaking admiration for Miss Carson, and an affinity with her.
‘A teacher’s training course is quite short you see, Mrs O’Brien. Only a couple of years, and the benefits will be enormous not only to Lottie but to the family.’ She gave a winsome smile. ‘It would be such a pity to waste the talents of a girl with so many gifts. She is one of our outstanding pupils and,’ she added, ‘Bella is not far behind, so you have two clever daughters, and I’m sure Jack will be equally as clever as his sisters.’
‘Jack is only eight,’ Ada protested, gratified beyond expectations by all this praise for her troublesome, willful and disobedient elder daughter.
‘Plenty of time for him to develop,’ Miss Carson said.
Abruptly pulling herself together, determined not to be seduced by all this charm, Ada’s face assumed its customary severe expression. ‘The fact is, Miss Carson, whatever you think of Charlotte, we are not in a position to let her stay on at school. We very badly need the money she would earn. Charlotte is nearly sixteen. She has already stayed on longer at school than she needed to. I could have taken her away at fourteen. She is quite old enough now to be earning her living. The same will be true of Bella when she turns fourteen. My husband has so far proved unfit to work and the burden falls on me. I work every hour God sends and frankly it is telling on me and my health.’
‘Believe me, I do sympathize.’ Miss Carson paused. ‘But I think if you could last a little longer . . .’
‘But it won’t be a “little longer”,’ Ada protested, ‘it will be years.’
‘But in the long run you will benefit enormously, don’t you realize that?’
‘I realize that Charlotte will have to leave school,’ Ada said, firmly rising from her seat. ‘It is very good of you to be so concerned but I’m sorry, that is the position.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I wasn’t born to this sort of life, you know, Miss Carson. My father had a good position and we lived in Karori. My parents were against my marriage, but I was very young, headstrong . . . Desmond then was a very attractive man . . . Well, look where it got me. Unable to see my children have a good education.’ And with a shrug and a smile bleak enough to freeze the heart, she turned to go.
‘Mrs O’Brien, wait a minute,’ Miss Carson called after her just as she reached the door. Ada turned to see her coming towards her. ‘I think I may be able to arrange some funds to help you out. We have contingency plans in the school for help when it is needed. It will not be a vast amount, but you might find it useful.’