A Christmas to Remember

by Katie Flynn

  He hurried along the pavement, rehearsing in his mind what he would presently say to Edie. He would have to explain his daughter’s condition in front of Mitch and Elsie, but why should that matter? They would have to know in the end, and anyway, he thought they were unlikely to be much interested. Girls grew up and became young women, and young women had babies; both Mitch and Elsie would be well aware of the facts of life even if working in the pet shop had not taught them all about the birds and the bees.

  As usual, the children were on the doorstep waiting to be let in when Albert arrived and greeted him cheerfully as they all entered the shop together and began to shed their outer clothing. When Edie joined them, her first question concerned Janine.

  ‘How’s your girl getting on?’ She lowered her voice, though the two youngsters were already cleaning cages and chattering away to one another. ‘She’s expecting, isn’t she? I imagine that’s why she’s come home . . . There’s nowhere like home when things go wrong.’

  Relief flooded Albert; he might have known that Edie would have read the situation after a few minutes in Janine’s company, let alone a couple of hours! ‘Yes, that’s it,’ he said. ‘She didn’t want folk to know too soon, but I told her she was being daft so she agreed to go along to Brougham Terrace, to the clinic for expectant mothers, and then to wherever one goes to apply for a ration book.’

  ‘I dare say she’ll be busy all morning, if not all day,’ Edie said ruefully. ‘Has she left yet? Only I thought I might offer to go with her; it’s not much fun being hassled and pushed around by officials when you know you’re not looking your best, nor feeling it for that matter.’

  ‘She was still in her nightie when I’d finished my breakfast, but she’s coming here before she goes off because, as I told her, the Liverpool she used to know has changed considerably.’ He beamed at his friend, noticing that her beautiful wavy white hair was not strained back by a rubber band today but was loose on her shoulders, and she was wearing a touch of lipstick, possibly even a little powder. ‘It’s really good of you. If I offered to accompany her, which I meant to do, I’d stand out like a sore thumb and the last thing Janine wants is to be different.’ He hesitated, glancing towards the two youngsters, but they were still cleaning cages. Nevertheless, Albert lowered his voice. ‘But I do have a worry, Edie. I’m afraid Janine isn’t always truthful, and if she starts telling lies, pretending the father of her baby is a rich American or saying she’s the owner of a successful ice cream parlour in the States, then she could be in all sorts of trouble. I’ll warn her to stick to the truth, but if I’m not with her . . . Oh, dear, Edie, what a fix we shall both be in if she lies to make herself seem more interesting, and not just a silly little girl who’s got into trouble and fled from the results.’

  Edie nodded. ‘You’d better tell me all the truth then,’ she said quietly. ‘At a guess I’d say she never married the Da Silva boy or, if she did, he didn’t father the child. Not that she’ll need to say that exactly . . .’

  ‘She didn’t marry anyone, because Mario was married already, but she had a fling with him some time ago which resulted in her condition,’ Albert said delicately. ‘She shouldn’t mention him by name, of course, because once the authorities can put a name to the father they will pursue him for maintenance. It’s best if she says she had a holiday romance and doesn’t know anything about the man, save that he’s an American.’

  ‘If she sticks to that story we should be all right,’ Edie said, giving Albert an inquisitive look. ‘It’s essentially true, isn’t it? Except of course that she knows Mario’s name and address. But she wouldn’t want to ruin his marriage by letting his wife know he had been unfaithful.’

  ‘If I’m honest, my dear, I think Janine would like nothing better than to make trouble for him. He seems to have lied to her right from the start,’ Albert said, just as the door opened and Janine slipped quietly into the shop.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ she said in a very subdued voice. ‘I’m ready, Dad. I’m dreading the whole business, but I’ve brought my passport and my birth certificate like you said . . . Oh, dear, if only I had a pal who’d be willing to come with me!’ She looked up at her father and he saw that once more she wore no make-up and was pale and wan, with dark circles under her eyes.

  ‘I don’t think I’d be much good, queen,’ Albert said gently. ‘But Edie here knows how to deal with officialdom and has offered to go with you. It’s up to you, of course . . .’

  Albert had had his doubts about how Edie’s offer would be received, but he need not have worried. His daughter might be – indeed was – jealous of the other woman, she might dislike or even mistrust her, but as Albert repeated Edie’s offer he saw the brittle smile on Janine’s face become full of delight and relief and was not surprised when Janine almost fell into the older woman’s arms. ‘Oh, thank you, Mrs Williams, you are good,’ she gabbled. ‘It’ll make all the difference to have another woman sticking up for me. Can we go at once, please? I’d really like to get it over with, and then I mean to rest on my bed for an hour or so . . .’

  ‘That’s right, you take care of yourself and my little grandchild,’ Albert said expansively as Edie took off her shop overall and put on her coat. ‘I’ll hold the fort here with Mitch and Elsie, but I doubt there’ll be many customers, or not until the snow eases up at any rate.’

  He went behind the counter and glanced into the stockroom. Elsie and Mitch, armed with scissors, paste, and several jars of poster paint were now busily creating paper chains out of old copies of the Echo. As the two women let themselves out of the shop Albert went into the stockroom. ‘Have you two finished cleaning the cages?’ he asked suspiciously. ‘I know you want to make the shop look festive but you mustn’t forget we’re here to work.’

  Mitch looked up and grinned. He had a smear of paste running across one cheek and a blob of bright blue paint on the end of his nose. But he assured Albert that they had finished the cages some time before. ‘Though you’re quite right, Mr Payne; we ought to check the food and water,’ he admitted. ‘Tomorrer Elsie and me is going to cut holly in the country; enough for the flat and the shop, Mrs Williams said. She’s goin’ to give us a bottle of tea and a load of mince pies as well as some sangwidges, it bein’ so cold.’ He glanced around the shop, which was empty, as though there were a dozen listening ears. ‘We’ve not told Mrs Williams, but we’re hopin’ to root up one of them Christmas trees what grows in the woods. We’ve already started making decorations for it whenever Mrs Williams ain’t around so it’s to be our present to her and Tess. Tess’ll be back before Christmas, won’t she?’

  ‘I expect so,’ Albert said. ‘So don’t you go ruining everyone’s Christmas by being caught nicking a tree and being hauled before a magistrate. Tell you what, I’ll give you five bob to buy one from the stalls on St John’s market. That’ll be my present to you, and your present to the Williamses can be the decorations. What do you say?’

  Mitch was agreeing that this would be grand when Elsie raised her head from her work. ‘Trees is everyone’s; you can’t steal a tree,’ she said matter of factly. ‘I don’t see why we’re any different from other people. I ‘member a scuffer chasin’ us when we were nickin’ holly from the big houses round Princes Park, and our dad said holly belonged to everyone ’cos it was only a tree. But the scuffer said we’d made a big hole in the feller’s hedge . . .’

  ‘What happened?’ Albert asked curiously. He could just imagine Elsie, even tinier than she was today, defying a dozen scuffers to take her holly from her. But this, apparently, had not been the case.

  ‘Happened? Nothin’, ’cos I headed him in the belly and runned like the perishin’ wind an’ got home afore he had a chance to grab me,’ Elsie said indifferently. ‘We sold the holly, me an’ Mitch, an’ bought oranges wi’ the money.’

  Albert grinned; trust Elsie to get away with murder! And even had she been caught he suspected that she would have charmed her way out of trouble somehow. But r
ight now he had work to do. He returned to his counter and began to check on the amounts of various foodstuffs they would need to order before Christmas. Outside the shop the wind continued to whirl the snow into the faces of passers-by and Albert began to feel uncomfortably chilly. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost eleven o’clock; how time flew when one was busy! He looked across at the stockroom where the paper chain, lavishly painted, had grown by ten feet since he saw it last. Albert got to his feet and set the kettle, which Edie had filled, on the Primus stove. ‘Elevenses in ten minutes, kids,’ he called. ‘Get out the shortbread!’

  Chapter Fourteen

  IT WAS MARKET day and Mrs Bell had joined other farmers’ wives at the WI stall where they sold their excess produce. Consequently, Tess had made the breakfast and was eating toast when Jonty slung the post down on the kitchen table. She reached for Gran’s letter – always full of news – and began to read, her eyebrows rising almost to her hair as she digested the contents.

  ‘Tess? What’s up? Not bad news, I hope?’

  Tess gulped. Oddly enough, her first reaction to the news that Albert’s daughter had returned was jealousy, and this feeling did not dissipate when she read that Janine was pregnant. In fact, it became worse. Tess was no stranger to jealousy, she realised with shame. She had been jealous of the growing affection between Gran and Albert for a long while, though she knew it was ridiculous; over and over, Gran had said that she and the tobacconist were just good friends, and Gran would never lie to her. So why on earth should she feel jealous because Janine had come home? Surely it would mean that Albert and Janine would be like herself and Gran, a nice little family of two, needing only each other? As for the baby, it would simply strengthen their family ties when it came, she supposed. Jealousy of Janine must be banished, because it was an ignoble emotion; Tess banished it and realised, suddenly, that father and son were staring at her, and she had not answered Jonty’s questions.

  ‘Sorry, I was a thousand miles away. I’ll read you Gran’s letter, then you’ll know why I’m somewhat surprised,’ she said. ‘It’s good news, but – but unexpected.’

  She read the letter aloud and Jonty’s reaction was immediate. ‘Gosh. I never even knew Mr Payne had a daughter,’ he exclaimed. ‘Wait till Ma hears! She’s been saying for a while now that she doesn’t understand why he and your gran haven’t plighted their troth, but I suppose they’re both too old to think about marriage.’

  Mr Bell had been eating toast and marmalade and had not yet commented, but his shrewd blue eyes dwelt thoughtfully on Tess’s face before he spoke. ‘I always did reckon you didn’t much fancy having that chap around the place,’ he said. ‘Ah well, the young are always selfish.’

  ‘Do you mean me when you say that?’ Tess said, astonished at Mr Bell’s words. ‘I love my gran dearly, and while we’ve got each other . . .’

  Mr Bell picked up his mug of tea and took a swig. ‘One of these days you and that Snowy White lad, or some other feller, will doubtless want to get wed,’ he observed. ‘What’ll happen to Mrs Williams then, eh?’

  ‘Oh! Well, I suppose we’ll move out, get a place of our own . . . No, I suppose we’ll stay in the flat above the pet shop and Gran will move out . . .’ Tess said uncertainly. ‘But that won’t be for ages and ages, perhaps not for years . . .’

  ‘There you are, you see,’ Mr Bell said kindly. ‘You’re selfish, like all young things. But there, mebbe I’m wrong and Mrs Williams and Mr Payne have no thought of marrying.’ He took a last long drink of his tea, set the mug down and scraped his chair back. ‘Well, tomorrow’s the great day, so I’ve warned the men that they’ll need to get ahead with their work and they’ve promised to do so, which means Jonty and myself have got to get a move on as well.’

  But all day Mr Bell’s words kept repeating themselves inside Tess’s head. Was she being selfish? She knew very well that Albert was fond of Gran – more than fond – and she believed he had suggested marriage, albeit tentatively. As she helped around the farm she pondered on her own behaviour and came to the sad conclusion that she had indeed thought only of herself and never of Gran. Oh, she had grown accustomed to Gran and Albert’s going to the theatre or cinema together, taking coach trips down to the coast, even attending occasional tea dances, but she had always behaved, she realised now, as though she and Gran should need no company other than their own. She had not exactly excluded Albert from the pet shop – she could scarcely do so since he had put a fair amount of money into the venture – but she had always made it plain that he was there more or less on sufferance.

  This thought came to her whilst she was collecting eggs and she was astonished to feel her cheeks grow hot. How could she have behaved so badly? It had simply never occurred to her that one day she might be the little bird who flew the nest, leaving Gran to grow old alone. As soon as she got home she must put her arms round Gran and give her a big hug, admit that she had been both selfish and thoughtless and tell her that she must make Albert Payne the happiest man on earth by agreeing to marry him.

  Not unnaturally, this made Tess think of her own situation. Snowy had had one of the many horrible fevers to which the men were prone when on jungle patrol, and as a result was being repatriated a month or so earlier than he had expected. Before he left England he had given her a locket in the shape of a heart with a small photograph of himself inside. Subsequently he had sent her photographs of himself in his tropical kit, sometimes with other soldiers, sometimes alone, but always looking so different from the little photograph in the locket that she thought she would scarcely have known him. When she had commented on this one day to Albert, he had said that Snowy had gone out to Malaya a boy and would be coming home a man, and now, faced with the truth about her own behaviour, Tess realised that Snowy was not the only one. She too had changed, from a girl to a young woman, and a young woman who was still uncertain of her own feelings – except that she was not in love with Snowy, had never been, would never be. Her feelings about Jonty, however, were muddled. Snowy had been very physical, embarrassingly so to the young Tess, but Jonty had never kissed her, save in the most brotherly fashion. She supposed that he must love Pamela Davies, though she had never seen them exchange more than the most casual of greetings or farewells. But who could fail to love Pamela, with her glowing skin, glorious gleaming hair and neat figure?

  So it’s no use imagining that Jonty will ever look at you twice, Tess Williams, she told herself. You made your bed long ago when Jonty asked you to come to the farm in your school holidays. If you’d encouraged him then . . . but you didn’t. You thought Snowy was the be-all and end-all, and by the time you realised you did have feelings for Jonty it was too late. Pamela had snared him.

  By this time, Tess had finished collecting eggs from the nesting boxes and was about to comb the hedgerows and ditches for the hens which stubbornly insisted on laying astray. As she searched, she reflected ruefully that her time here was now very limited. The next day everyone would be engaged on matters pertaining to the ruby wedding party and the day after that would be the last of what would probably, almost certainly, be her final visit to the farm.

  There had been no mention of a wedding between Pamela and Jonty, which was a little strange since farmers, Tess knew, liked to marry in the winter when there was little doing on the land. She had been careful never to intrude when the pair were talking, so had no idea what plans might have been made, but now she hurried back to the farmhouse. Jonty was sitting at the table peeling potatoes, so she washed her hands over the sink and outlined her plans as she did so. ‘There’s an early train I can catch the day after tomorrow, or the next day, which would get me into Liverpool before dark,’ she told him, smiling brightly. ‘Will you be able to drive me to the station? Your mum says I’m to take a dozen eggs, a pound of butter and a bacon joint for Gran, so if you could help me to get everything on to the train that would be grand.’ She turned from the sink, reaching for the roller towel on the back of the door an
d saw Jonty’s eyes widen.

  ‘Help you to get on to the train?’ he said. ‘I’m coming with you, girl! I’ve already phoned your gran asking her to get me a bed just for a couple of nights, but all the hotels are full because of Christmas, so she says I can have a shakedown on your living-room floor. There are presents which I hope to buy in Liverpool since I’ve been unable to find them in Norwich.’ He pulled a comical face. ‘Don’t say you can’t be doing with a visitor so close to the holiday. After all, us Bells put up with you for a lot longer than that!’

  Tess stared. ‘But . . . but . . .’ she stammered. ‘But Jonty, you’re needed here! I’d love you to come back with me, of course, but . . .’

  ‘But me no buts,’ Jonty said breezily, pushing past her to run water into the pan of peeled potatoes. ‘I’ve made it all right with everyone so you needn’t worry. Any more objections? Anything left undone that I could help you with?’

  ‘Well, I was going to decorate the kitchen and parlour with those paper chains we made when we were kids. They’re up in the attic along with the sparkly things and the tinsel you always put on the tree . . .’ she cast him a twinkling glance, ‘when you’ve pinched one from the plantation t’other side o’ fen,’ she concluded in her best Norfolk accent.

  ‘We’ll decorate the place the day after tomorrow, then,’ Jonty said. ‘Don’t be such a perishin’ fusspot! Leave everything to me the same as you always do.’

  Tess tipped the potato peelings into the big black pot already half full of chopped cabbage leaves, apple peel and other waste. It would be cooked until it was just a mush, then thickened with poultry meal and fed to the hens which clucked constantly around the yard.

  ‘Well?’ Jonty said. ‘Haven’t I been efficient? All you’ll have left to do is pack your case, say your goodbyes, and get into the car . . .’