would get up to speak to you,’ Conway said. ‘I told her there was no need, I could pass on her message, but no, she must thank you and Irene herself.’
‘It’s good to see her so much brighter. And ready for her holiday.’ Garbutt slid a glance at Conway. ‘The holiday must be costing you a bob or two, new clothes and all.’
‘If it helps to get her really well again, it’s worth every penny.’ Conway grimaced. ‘When I think how she was, back in the summer – some days she didn’t get up out of bed at all. She wouldn’t even bring the milk in from the back door or the newspaper from the front porch.’ His tone echoed the anxiety of that distressing time. ‘I’d know as soon as I drove up in the evening if it had been one of her worst days. The paper would still be on the bench in the porch.’ He shuddered briefly. ‘But we’re well past that now, thank God. Dr Peake’s been very good to her. And she’s tried very hard herself, I must give her that.’
‘Occupation,’ Garbutt declared with robust conviction. ‘That’s the answer. Look at Irene. Lots of women her age, children grown up and left home, they get to feeling sorry for themselves. They sit around moping, swallowing pills or taking to booze, I don’t know which is worse. Irene hasn’t got time to invent worries for herself. She’s busy from morning till night, she loves every minute of it.’
Conway suddenly raised a hand. ‘I meant to ask you – it’s Anna’s birthday next Monday, the 30th. I’d like a good house plant, or maybe Irene could make me up a bouquet – I don’t know what she’s got in the way of flowers this time of year. I could pick up the plant or the bouquet on Sunday evening, put it somewhere cool overnight where Anna won’t see it.’
‘I’m sure Irene’ll be able to find you something to suit you,’ Garbutt told him. ‘She’s got some first-class house plants coming on. Or she could make up an indoor garden. They’re a bit more unusual and they last a long time. The best thing would be if you had a word with Irene yourself. Drop in one evening on your way home, see what’s on offer.’
‘Right, thanks,’ Conway said. ‘I’ll do that.’
They reached the station in good time. The buildings were beautifully decorated; elegant old bracket lamps shed a golden glow. A striking display of purple and white dahlias graced island beds set in the twin platforms.
Passengers strolled up and down, chatting in friendly fashion, looking about with keen attention as they waited for the train. No stand-offishness here, no grimly silent Monday-morning faces. Everywhere an air of holiday gaiety, even among those clearly on their way to an ordinary day’s work.
Garbutt got out of the car and went into the station with Conway, as he always did. His boyhood love of steam trains was as strong as ever.
‘I wish I could spare the time to put in half a day here now and then,’ he said when Conway came back from buying his ticket.
‘I wouldn’t mind putting in more time myself,’ Conway told him. He came along most weekends, with an occasional extra stint in the lighter evenings.
The signal dropped. The passengers stopped perambulating and lined the platform, craning to catch the first plume of smoke, ears cocked for the distant rumble of wheels.
She came swooping down on them with a heart-stirring rush and roar, the engine splendid in green and black livery, brasswork gleaming, coaches brilliant in scarlet and cream. Along the open windows, men and women leaned out, smiling and waving. Among them, a lad of seventeen or so, scrutinizing the waiting passengers as the train swept in. He caught sight of Conway, his face broke into a cheerful grin. He called out a greeting, lost in the medley of sounds.
Conway raised a hand in reply and hastened along the platform to where the lad’s compartment would stop. The train drew to a halt amid clangs and hisses. Doors swung open. Garbutt stood watching the lively to-and-fro with his eyes alight, savouring the acrid scents of steam and smoke.
‘Pick you up at six-thirty,’ he called out as Conway stepped aboard. Conway turned and waved, gave him a nod. The lad closed the door. The guard waved his flag, blew his whistle.
On the dot of seven thirty-two the engine began to snort and grunt. Along with everyone else remaining on the platform, Garbutt stood motionless as the train pulled out, slow and stately. He stayed gazing after it till its lights had vanished into the shadowy distance and the far-off rattle of its wheels was lost among the rising sounds of morning.
The sky was still flushed from sunset when Garbutt halted his car again at Oldmoor station. His watch showed six-ten. Time for a pleasurable stroll round, a good look at every detail, every notice.
He pulled his coat collar about his ears as he got out of the car. Bitterly cold in the wind. At least the rain was holding off.
Promptly at six-thirty the brightly lit train came thundering in. Conway leaned out of a window, gave Garbutt a cheery wave. The train clattered to a stop in the lamplit dusk. Conway jumped down and joined Garbutt under the shelter of a canopy. They stood watching the animated bustle till the train huffed and puffed its way out again, spot on time.
Whirls of coppery leaves danced along the road in the car’s headlamps as they drove out to Ferndale. Lights shone out from scattered dwellings. Conway chatted about his day at the factory. The festivities had been a trifle long-winded for his taste, the speeches a shade self-congratulatory. But it had been enjoyable enough. The sales meeting in the morning had gone particularly well. Plenty of good offers, first-class job lots of materials bought in against the demands of the advancing season.
‘You remember Irene asking me a few weeks ago about new curtains and bedspreads for the back bedroom?’ Conway said.
Garbutt nodded. ‘That’s right. She’d like them for the New Year. The eldest son and his family should be due some leave. They’ll be home from Germany around then.’
‘I promised Irene I’d let her know when we had some good discount offers. I should be able to fix her up now. We’ve got some exceptionally good promotion lines specially for the jubilee. I’ll be very surprised if she can’t find something she likes among them. If you’ve got ten minutes to spare you can pop into the house with me now, take a look at the swatches.
‘If you think any of them might suit, you can take them home with you, Irene can look through them this evening. I’ll pick them up first thing in the morning. If she does decide to place an order I’ll take it then, I can get the order pushed through right away. You’ve got to be quick off the mark with these specials, they get snapped up pretty fast, they’re terrific value.’
‘Sounds just the job.’ Garbutt was pleased. ‘I’ll come in and take a look at the patterns now. I’ve nothing on till seven-thirty, that’s when I pick up my old gent to take him along to his club. Irene’s been very satisfied with the covers you got her for the sitting room, back in the summer.’
‘That’s settled, then,’ Conway said. ‘And I can have a word with Irene in the morning about the flowers for Anna’s birthday.’
There were no lights visible as they approached Ferndale. Garbutt pulled up by the front door and they got out of the car. Conway switched on the porch light. Garbutt wiped his feet on the mat.
Conway stood rigid for a moment, frowning at the sight
