Something was bringing light into her life, just like the sunshine that was warming her face. That something was Frank and she quickened her pace, eager to get to the other side.
Soon enough, Glenda spotted a man in a long grey mac and trilby hat whom she instantly recognised as Frank. He was holding a carpet bag and waving furiously at her. Oh, good, she thought, he looks just as keen to see me as I am to see him! She almost ran, and was slightly breathless as she reached Frank, who dropped his bag and swept her up into his arms, lifting her feet from the ground and squeezing her tightly.
Glenda was taken aback by such an enthusiastic greeting and slightly embarrassed by a public show of emotion, but, as soon as Frank spoke, her embarrassment faded and her heart melted.
‘I’ve missed you, Glenda Jenkins!’ Frank crooned as he stared intently into Glenda’s dark eyes. ‘I couldn’t wait to see you.’
‘You too, Frank,’ whispered Glenda, nervous but excited at the same time. Oh, dear, she thought, is he going to kiss me? Her body tensed. She wasn’t sure if Frank felt her stiffen but he released her from his fervent hug and she found her feet back on the ground.
‘I’m sorry, Glenda, that was a bit much. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you all week and it’s been driving me crazy not seeing you. I got a bit over-excited.’
Glenda smiled as Frank winked at her and flashed her one of his cheeky grins. She knew how he felt; it had been the same for her too.
‘I’ve done us a bite to eat for lunch. How about we take a stroll down Cheyne Walk first?’ Frank asked.
‘Sounds lovely. I must admit, I’ve never been over this side of the water. It’s a bit different from Battersea!’ Glenda suddenly felt very scruffy and out of date in her black wool coat, which was bobbled with age, and her headscarf looked so old fashioned compared to the fancy hats the women here were wearing.
‘This is where the rich and famous live. Do you know Turner lived down this road?’ said Frank, gesturing with his hand.
‘I hope you don’t think I’m an idiot, but I have no idea who you’re talking about, Frank.’
‘Turner – he was a famous artist. And for the record, no, I don’t think you’re an idiot. Well, apart from staying with that husband of yours!’
‘I can’t say you’re wrong on that point, Frank,’ Glenda said, nodding, ‘but this Turner bloke can’t be that famous. I mean, I’ve never heard of him!’
They both laughed and Glenda looked around her: at the Thames to her right, glistening as the sunlight caught the tops of the ripples, and the tall, gated mansion houses to her left, which held so much wealth and luxury for their lucky residents. This was such a perfect day and she didn’t want it ever to end.
Frank stopped at a vacant black iron bench that faced the river. Perfect, he thought, as he beckoned Glenda to sit down.
‘Well, I don’t know about you, but that walk has given me a bit of an appetite. Fancy a bite to eat?’ He rummaged in his carpet bag and pulled out two sandwiches, along with a bag of chewy bonbons. ‘I hope you like egg sandwiches.’
‘Egg! Real egg?’ Glenda exclaimed as she parked the pram.
‘Yeah.’
‘Oh, Frank, I hate powdered egg so this is a real treat, and sweets too!’
‘Well, I had a bit of luck with the sweets. An old dear on the hospital ward had a visit from her granddaughter who used her sweet rations to buy her the bonbons. She didn’t like to tell her that with no teeth she couldn’t eat them. The eggs came from my mate down the street where I used to live before our house was bombed. He’s turned the old bomb shelter in his garden into a chicken house.’
Glenda took the proffered sandwich, relishing the taste as she bit into it, and for a few minutes a comfortable silence fell between them as they ate. Frank poured two cups of dandelion and burdock and handed one to Glenda, and the pair of them clinked their tin cups, both announcing ‘Cheers’.
Frank felt the urge to lean across and kiss Glenda but refrained from doing so, reminding himself that they were just friends. Although he wanted far more than that, he didn’t want to frighten Glenda off and he knew she was far too loyal to be unfaithful to Harry. In spite of this, he couldn’t stop himself taking her hand in his. Her skin felt beautifully soft.
‘Glenda,’ he began, ‘I understand that this is difficult, but you must know how I feel about you.’
‘I think I do, Frank,’ she answered, lowering her eyes to the pavement. ‘I’m falling for you too and I know I shouldn’t. I just can’t help myself. And having you in my life somehow makes things at home more bearable.’
Frank’s heart was breaking for the poor woman. She was stuck in a loveless marriage with a man she feared and, as much as he wanted to take her away and save her, he had nothing to offer.
‘I love you, Glenda. There’s no mistaking it. I want you to leave your husband and be with me, but I know how hard that would be for you. So if once a week is all I get of you, then that will have to do. I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I would rather have something than nothing. I can’t let you go, not now I’ve found you.’
‘I’m so sorry, Frank. I never expected this to happen, but it has and I’m the same – I have to see you, even though I know it’s wrong. I … I can’t give you anything more than friendship, it just wouldn’t be right, so are you sure that’s enough for you?’
Although Frank knew Glenda would never be his, it still felt like a blow to the stomach. Hearing her say that they could only be friends hurt him physically, yet still he had to be with her, had to see her on any terms. He managed to raise a smile.
‘Friends it is then. I tell you what, I’ve got Wednesday off work, some sort of mix-up with my shifts. How about we go for a walk in Battersea Park?’
‘Yes, I’d like that.’
‘The nipper can feed the ducks,’ Frank said, leaning forward to look in the pram.
‘Don’t be daft. He’s only a baby,’ said Glenda with a smile.
Daft, yes, I’m certainly daft about you, Frank mused, but refrained from voicing those words. He didn’t want to upset Glenda, and a walk in Battersea Park was better than nothing.
On Wednesday Billy Myers had bunked a day off work in the hope of seeing Glenda out and about doing her shopping and washing. Trouble is, he had to think of yet another excuse to be in the high street instead of at the building site. He’d nearly got caught out last time, when he lied about his mum being ill, and he didn’t want Glenda thinking badly of him. I’ll fake a limp, he thought, and pretend I’ve hurt my ankle or something.
His brother Frank had been up early that morning, and his chirpy whistling woke Billy, so, although he didn’t expect to see Glenda for at least an hour, he set out eagerly, deciding to ‘accidentally’ bump into her at the shop on the corner of her street. This would give him the opportunity to spend a little more time with her as well.
Billy reached the corner of Inworth Street and went into the shop. He picked up a magazine and paid for it, but then pretended to be flicking through it whilst watching out for Glenda. Shortly after, her front door opened and the familiar sight of Johnnie’s pram emerged. Billy was perplexed to see that there were no laundry bags balancing on top, and when Glenda came into view he saw that she wasn’t wearing her usual headscarf. Instead her hair was pinned in neat waves close to her head. She looked a knockout.
He left the shop, ready to bump into her, but when Glenda reached the corner of the street, instead of turning right and towards him, she turned left. Puzzled, Billy frowned. This wasn’t Glenda’s usual routine. Her pace was brisk as she marched along the road, while Billy followed discreetly, keen to find out where she was going. Though it had been dry when Glenda left her house, drizzle began to fall and as she stopped for a moment to tie a headscarf over