The Postmistress

Roger thought back to the beginnings of their friendship. Was it only three years ago that their paths had crossed so dramatically? He was transported back to another time when the three of them had been closeted in the same small room as they had been tonight, locking horns over life and death issues. But what they had discussed then had never been referred to since, not by any of them. And when Roger saw Vicky in the Post Office as he so often endeavoured to do, she showed no signs of wanting to rekindle any of the personal connection he felt they had forged on that day. She treated him no differently to any other customer, no matter how hard he tried to engage her in more personal conversation and he wondered if she knowingly misinterpreted his advances.

Was she really not aware of how he felt? He had often asked himself that question. Or had life changed for her so radically at that time that she wanted to shut out all memories of her former connections and the decisions she had made? There was no question that she had changed in the few years he had known her. She no longer had the youthful bluster, the almost cocky self-confidence she’d had when he had first known her. A layer of sadness now lurked behind her gentle grey eyes but he put that down to life experience and the maturity of her twenty-five years. Her dark hair was no longer cut short the way it had been when he had first set eyes on her, but when she swept it back off her face he could clearly see the fine lines of her delicate features. She was still a beautiful woman. And as he watched her stroke her father’s hand, he wondered how much the inner Vicky had changed. But that was a question she had never allowed him to ask.

He watched her face and couldn’t help his lips spreading into a smile. Despite her determined efforts to appear so capable, so completely in charge, she was unable to mask the compassion that she obviously felt for her father, and in that moment Roger knew that on the inside she was the same kind, empathic Vicky he had first known. He wished he could tell her how much he admired her, had always admired her, but he wasn’t sure she would believe him. Yet he couldn’t help but respect how she had handled this difficult situation, just like she had once before when she herself had been the subject of his ministrations. That was one of the things that he— He stopped, afraid to shape the word ‘love’ even in his own head, knowing how futile it was to dwell on the past. He looked over to where she was gently stroking her father’s hand and he knew that it was important for him to refocus his thoughts on the present.

‘Did you have any warning that that was what Henry was intending to do?’ It was Roger who broke the silence. Arthur seemed to be sleeping.

‘Yes, we both did. Henry told us last week that he was going to sign up,’

‘And what was your father’s reaction?’

‘Dad seemed genuinely proud – even pleased. It can’t be that that’s triggered this attack, can it?’ Vicky said.

Roger shrugged. ‘It’s impossible to say but I doubt it. With damage such as your father suffered to his lungs, it doesn’t have to be anything you can put your finger on. There’s any number of things that could bring on such an attack.’

‘So we can expect something like this to happen again? At any time?’ Vicky asked. She turned to look at Roger and though she was dry-eyed there was a sore-looking redness round the rims.

‘It’s possible,’ Roger said, ‘if I’m brutally honest.’

‘I don’t understand my brother,’ Vicky said. ‘I’d have thought after he’d seen what two wars had already done to this family, volunteering for a third would never have been on his agenda.’ She put her head in her hands. ‘He knows what could happen.’ Her voice was muffled. ‘But he doesn’t seem to care. That, I suppose, is typical Henry.’

‘And did you try to dissuade him from going?’ Roger asked. ‘Did you point out your position regarding …?’ He nodded towards Arthur who was now breathing deeply and steadily with only a slight wheezing sound as he exhaled. ‘He must know how difficult things are for you trying to cope with it all.’

Vicky gave a sardonic laugh. ‘It seems that when you’re the prodigal son you don’t have to care; you can get away with anything.’

‘I suppose in a strange way you should be flattered,’ Roger said. ‘Henry sees you as his big, capable sister who doesn’t need help.’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘the sister who picks up after him and who deals with everything he leaves behind.’

Roger smiled. She was being so brave, taking on whatever life threw at her, he thought.

‘I’m sure you must worry about not being able to cope in an emergency and I know things could change very quickly, but I think you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.’

‘You mean I shouldn’t have called you tonight?’ she interrupted. ‘I’m really sorry; it won’t happen again.’

‘No, no, I’m not saying that it wasn’t appropriate to call me out tonight.’ Roger was regretting what he had said now. ‘Really, you mustn’t hesitate to call me day or night if you’re worried. I totally trust your judgement on that one.’

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments before Roger asked, ‘Will you be seeing Henry again or has he already been sent away for training? I don’t suppose there’s any possibility of making him change his mind?’

‘There’s still a few days before he says his final goodbyes, though Dad could find that upsetting, don’t you think? But I believe he’s actually signed up now so there’s no going back.’

Roger looked at Vicky, not wanting to ask what Henry’s reappearance might do to her. Vicky sighed and stood up. ‘But you don’t want to be spending what should be your evening off hearing about our family nonsense. I do appreciate you coming out, especially when you’re having to use your bike, and I’m sure Dad will want to say thank you too when he wakes up to what’s happened.’ She moved towards the door and Roger moved with her.

‘Vicky,’ he said, ‘I want you to know that you’re not completely alone with this, although I can see how it might feel like that sometimes. I am here for you.’ Without thinking, he clasped her arms and was pleased when she didn’t shy away. ‘I want you to look at me,’ he said, and she looked up, startled. He removed his hands. ‘I’m here for you, always,’ he said again.

Vicky looked away and nodded.

‘I’m hoping things will settle down for a while now. I honestly think your dad will be all right for now at least, but you mustn’t hesitate to call me if he does have another episode.’ Roger looked around the tiny room. For him, this was often an awkward moment with patients, and in this instance he was glad Arthur was part of the GPO’s Health Insurance scheme which would cover his bill. He always felt uncomfortable charging patients when he knew they were having to pay the bills for his visits from their own pockets.

Roger felt confident that Vicky had everything under control and he made a move to open the door before the two of them stood together for a moment. It took some willpower on his part not to put his arms around her completely and offer a more concrete form of support. Instead, he clenched his fists, holding his arms stiffly by his sides, and then settled for parting with a firm handshake.

All the way home, as he pedalled through the deserted streets to the outskirts of the town, Roger worried about Vicky and tried unsuccessfully to erase the vision of her sad eyes from his mind. She was a grand lass, as local people were always reminding him – still young enough to look pretty, and interested enough in things going on around her to be good company. But right now there was no doubt she was facing an almost impossible situation as she juggled her various roles and he had no easy solution to offer. When would Arthur wake up to the fact that he was undervaluing her contribution and that without her the whole household, including the Post Office business, could fall apart?

When he finally reached home he rode up the path and dismounted, then wheeled his bike to the gable end of the house where he parked it with the rest of the family’s bikes under the tarpaulin that protected them from the elements. His mother must have been watching out for him for he could see that she had opened the side door before he’d even had time to unhook his bicycle clips.

‘You must be worn out,’ she said as he wiped his feet vigorously on the coconut matting. ‘Julie was sure she would still be awake when you came in because she wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten your promise to take her to the park fishing tomorrow. She made a valiant effort to keep her eyes open, I must say, kept insisting I read her one more story, but in the end she gave in.’

‘Is she awake now?’ Roger asked.

‘No, she fell asleep in the middle of one of her favourites second time around – or maybe it was the third – and thank goodness she’s stayed that way. I’ve just looked in on her now.’

‘I hate to say it but I’m glad to hear that, for I’m afraid I’d have had little patience for reading stories tonight,’ Roger said. ‘And I must admit, I had forgotten it was tomorrow I said we might go fishing. I’ve had a lot of other things on my mind.’

‘A difficult visit?’ Freda said.

Roger paused to think for a moment as the events of the evening replayed in his head, leaving him with a clear image of Vicky’s face. ‘You could say that,’ he said. He patted his mother’s hand. ‘But it will all still be there tomorrow – and right now I could murder a cup of tea.’

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