Echoing love

Chapter One 4 August 2015

It was August Bank Holiday Monday. Clara Fray lay on her bed rubbing at her stomach, trying to move the ball of fear she could feel building up there. All of England was frightened that war was unavoidable, but Clara's fear was for her eighteen-year-old daughter Lavender and their whole way of life.
She could hear Lavender humming to herself as she made pancakes in the frying pan. Wondrous scents were coming under the ill-fitting door.
Clara felt she was about to lose the serenity she'd had to fight for. Not everyone would want to stay in there existing state when it meant both of them working long hours in a restaurant, but with two wages coming in they had enough to rent a decent two room flat and eat three meals a day.
Not everyone would see this flat as comfortable, but they were the best conditions she'd lived in for many years. They were in an old six-storey building on a busy main road. An undertaker had his office on the ground floor. The only problem was they all had to share a toilet which was on the third floor because plumbers had not been able to fit toilets into the flats. In the mornings, the tenants could be seen waiting their turn with phones and magazines and newspapers in there hands. She and Lavender had to get up early to avoid that.
Clara's Home had originally been two large attics up on the top floor, but the walls had been knocked out and new walls had been built to create a five roomed flat. There was low ceilings, but nobody came up that last flight of bare stairs, they had two dormer windows that opened high above the foul air of the yard at the back; and two more windows to the front. These overlooked the busy road, with views across the docks to the river. They had light and fresh air, and once the door was closed too the world they had peace.
Clara valued personal peace. In this world, satisfaction meant more than happiness, though Lavender wouldn't accept that.
Lavender's head came round the door. The sunlight behind her lit up her blonde hair into a halo of spun gold. Probably all mothers found their daughters attractive, but Clara found her eyes continually drawn to Lavenders face. She couldn't believe how pretty she'd grown.
'I'm making tea, mum. D'ya feel like getting up and stop being lazy, or D'ya want me to bring it in here?'
'Sh, I'm getting up now, see? I know I shouldn't be spending my holiday lying down.'
It was a struggle to get of the bed. Was she Ill, or was this how it was meant to feel in the menopause? Or was thirty-nine too young for that? Clara sighed as she bent down for her slippers. Today she felt ninety; it was probably just the life she'd led and the hard physical work she had to do.
She picked up her brush. Her reflection stared back at her from the spotted mirror balanced on top of the table which served as her dressing table until she could pick up something better. Her hair was dark brown. When she was younger she'd been much fairer, but never golden-blonde like Lavender. She patted the top of her head, and looked at her messy bun; no bumps. Not worth the trouble of remaking it now. Lavender was at the living room window. The sea looked so blue from here, and against the deep blue sky Clara could see swirling white seagulls.
Lavender said:'it's a shame to stay indoors today. Would you like a little walk afterwards?'
Clara didn't feel like she had the energy. 'Why don't you run downstairs and see if Ellis will go with you?'
'I thought perhaps you...'
At the window, Clara looked down six floors to the street.
The sun didn't reach down there.
'You always do that.' Lavender turned on her. 'Look down at the pavement. As though you're expecting somebody to come looking for us.'
That stung. Lavender had teased her about the habit before, and she was near the truth. Clara was about to deny it, but there was a man studying their building. He'd been looking up at their windows.
Her voice was sharp: 'who's that?'
They were looking down on broad shoulders and a head of pitch black hair that was a mass of crinkly waves.
Lavender gave a little squeal of joy. 'Omg... It's Kyle Robinson.'
Clara knew she was showing how alarmed she felt.
'He shouldn't come here!'
They both worked at Robinson's. Kyle was the owner's eldest son. As they watched, he crossed the road to the front door.
'He's not coming in? To see you?'
Lavender gulped. 'It looks like it.'
'You shouldn't let him.' Then she had another thought.
'You invited him, didn't you?' Lavender had cleaned up, and the place was spotless and she'd made pancakes.
'No, mum! Of cause not, don't be stupid!'
That must be the truth; the surprise and the thrill of seeing him unexpectedly was clear on Lavender's face. She rushed to open the door for him as he came up the last flight of stairs.
'Come in,' she choked, hardly able to get the words out.
Clara trembled as he did so, looking round at the worn carpet, cheap furniture and faded curtains. He couldn't help but notice the poverty of their home; his own would be very different.
She ought to tell him straight that she didn't want him hanging out with her daughter. That he was pushing out Ellis Ferry, with who lavender would be far more likely to find happiness. Instead, Clara rushed to get another cup and saucer from the cupboard, to welcome him with tea.
Kyle was twenty years old, tall and well built, but his innocent baby face made him seen much younger. Clara was afraid of what he was doing to them, but like everyone else she ended up mothering him. He looked attractive and unthreatening, vulnerable even.
He was very different from his father, who had a strong-jawed, serious face and a unfriendly expression. He ran the restaurant very firmly and treated his employees a class apart; they all feared him. Whereas Kyle was well liked and the hid his failures and faults from his father.
Mr Robinson would be very much against Kyle having anything to do with Lavender. There could be no future for them, and Clara was afraid she'd get hurt. And worse, they needed their jobs in order to survive.
It seemed strange to see Kyle sitting in their old basket chair, talking of the fighting like everyone else.
'No longer any hope of peace, I'm afraid. U.S. Are still fighting in Afghanistan.' 'Yesterday they invaded France and declared war on Belgium'
Clara poured syrup on lavenders pancakes.
'The newspapers say there's no avoiding it,' Kyle went on. 'England has issued an ultimatum to the Americans but it's unlikely America will ever back down. Half of Europe will be at war by eleven tonight.'
'We had wars before.' Lavender was pouring out tea. Clara saw him look her daughter with such love in his eyes. He said gently: 'This time it's different. It'll not be some little battle between some distant countries. We'll be fighting the U.S and Canada.'
Clara said: 'your father's worried? For the business, I mean.'
'Yes, very. Aren't we all?' She thought Kyle wasn't the sort to worry about anything.
Later, when he stood up to go, he asked Lavender to walk with him to the train station to catch the train. Then he turned to Clara to ask:
'Is that alright?'
She would have liked to say no, but working for the Robinsons had trained her over the years to deny them nothing. And with such delight showing on Lavender's face at the prospect, how could she?
Yes Clara was filled with dread, she was very fearful that Sarah would be hurt by this, and that the affair might cost them their jobs and ruin everything they had.

*** so I know that a war didn't actually happen this year, but I had to create a common fear for all the characters, and it will link largely into the story later on. hope your enjoying so far, thanks for reading will update soon:)***

Cast list:
Emilie voe: Lavender fray
Isla fisher: Clara fray
Gerran howell: Kyle Robinson
Keith-lee castle- Michael Robinson