Mother’s Ruin

by Kitty Neale

  ‘You just watch me.’

  Sadie leaned forward in her chair, speaking for the first time. ‘Sally, listen to me. I know you’re hurt and at the moment swamped with bitterness, but Elsie is right and no matter what Arthur has done, you can’t keep Angel away from him. Little girls cling to their fathers, and if you stop her from seeing him it’ll rebound on you. She’ll come to blame you. Surely you realise that.’

  Sally reared to her feet. ‘I don’t care! Just leave me alone, all of you,’ she cried, fleeing the room. She was deeply shocked by Arthur’s betrayal and wanted him to suffer too. To that end she would use the only weapon she had. Angel.

  ‘She’s in a terrible state,’ Elsie said, distressed, as the door slammed behind Sally.

  ‘What do you expect?’

  Sadie exhaled loudly before speaking. ‘To save the marriage I was prepared to have a go at talking Sally round, but not now, not when he’s moved that girl in.’

  ‘I still think that Sally is mistaken. In fact, I think I’ll walk round there now. When Bert comes back, will you tell him where I am?’

  ‘I think I’ll come with you,’ Ruth said.

  ‘It would be better if I spoke to Arthur on my own.’

  ‘Maybe, but I want to see for myself if that girl has moved in. If she has, then as far as I’m concerned, Sally has made the right decision.’

  ‘All right, come on then. You’ll see it’s a load of rubbish.’

  ‘Sally!’ Ruth called. ‘Me and Elsie are popping out for a while. You’d better come down and sit with your gran.’

  Both women now marched along Candle Lane, hardly speaking during the walk to Maple Terrace.

  It was Elsie who banged on the door and when Arthur opened it she barged in. ‘What’s this about you and Sally getting a divorce?’

  Arthur’s half smile was more like a sneer, his voice sardonic. ‘Hello, and it’s nice to see you too, Mum.’

  ‘Don’t be funny with me,’ Elsie spat, and indicating that Ruth should follow her, they made for the living room.

  Arthur followed behind and as he took a seat, Elsie spoke again. ‘Now, son, I asked you a question. Are you getting a divorce?’

  ‘Yes, I am, and I don’t appreciate you barging in here as if you own the place.’

  ‘Got something to hide, have you?’ Ruth scowled. ‘Are you frightened we’ll catch you with your fancy woman?’

  Arthur’s chin rose. ‘Your daughter left me. What I do now is none of her business, or yours.’

  ‘She had good reason to leave you.’

  ‘Maybe, but if she’d been a proper wife when I came home from hospital, I wouldn’t have slept with Patsy. I’ll tell you something else – she has no right to keep my daughter away from me.’

  ‘I don’t blame her, not when she saw that you’ve moved that tart in.’

  ‘Is that what she told you? And I suppose the lying bitch said she’d caught us at it again.’

  ‘Don’t you dare call my daughter a bitch!’

  ‘If the cap fits,’ he drawled.

  ‘That’s enough, Arthur,’ Elsie said sharply. ‘Are you trying to tell us that you haven’t slept with that girl again?’

  Both women saw Arthur flush, his guilt obvious, but it was Elsie who now spoke, her voice high with shock. ‘My God, son, you should be ashamed of yourself.’

  ‘Well, I’m not! Unlike my wife, Patsy wants me and has made that plain. Now I suggest you both leave, and Mum, if you come here in future, make sure you ring me first. After all, I might be busy with Patsy and you wouldn’t want to walk in on us.’

  Ruth saw the distress on her friend’s face and said angrily, ‘How can you talk to your mother like that, you rotten sod!’

  ‘Leave it, Ruth. Come on, let’s go,’ Elsie said, but not before throwing her son a look of disgust.

  For a while Elsie was quiet as they walked along Maple Terrace, but then she turned to Ruth, her eyes moist with tears. ‘I can’t believe this! How could my son talk to me like that? He’s become like a stranger to me.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s come over him, but Sally’s right. He does want a divorce.’

  ‘I know, and I dread to think what Bert is going to say.’

  Elsie said nothing to Bert until they left Ruth’s house and were getting into the car. ‘Bert, while you were in the park with Angel, Ruth and I went to see Arthur.’

  ‘Did you? Why didn’t you wait for me?’

  ‘I wanted to find out if it was true that he had that slut living with him.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He didn’t deny it, and not only that, he’s going to divorce Sally.’

  ‘We’ll see about that. We’re going round there now and I’ll have a few words to say to my son.’

  ‘No, Bert, leave it. It’ll be best to wait until things have calmed down a bit, and anyway, Arthur said we have to ring him first before going to see him.’

  ‘He what?’ Bert exploded. ‘What the hell’s come over him?’

  ‘I don’t know. I hardly recognised him. He seemed so hard, so cruel . . .’ and unable to hold back her tears any longer, Elsie started crying.

  Bert’s face reddened with anger. ‘First, Arthur sleeps with another woman, moves her in, and now says that we have to make an appointment to see him, upsetting you in the process. Right, that’s it, Elsie. From now on he’s no son of mine.’

  ‘Oh, Bert, don’t say that.’ He didn’t answer, only putting his foot down on the accelerator in anger as he roared along Candle Lane, whilst Elsie sat beside him, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

  Arthur sat back on the sofa, still furious. What right had his mother to barge in here like that, Ruth with her? It was Sally who wanted a divorce, not him, yet he had borne the brunt of their anger. Yes, he had slept with Patsy again, but it wouldn’t have happened if Sally hadn’t left him. And to top it all, the bitch had told them that Patsy had moved in.

  Well, that was it, the last straw. His anger continued to mount, festering inside. Sally had turned everyone against him and Arthur slammed his fist on the arm of the sofa as he vowed to see a solicitor the next day.

  He was still fuming when he picked up one of his crutches and stood up, banging the other one on the ceiling. Patsy wanted him, in fact she wanted him all the time, and though he didn’t love her he had to admit the sex was terrific. Yes, there was a woman who found him irresistible, and from now on, he’d show Sally that he didn’t give a damn.

  Patsy walked into the room now, smiling as she said, ‘You rang, sir? Or should I say, you knocked?’

  ‘Yes, I did. Come here, you little minx.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  A month had passed and the May weather was lovely, but it didn’t cheer Laura Walters as she gazed at the grainy black and white photo. It was all she had left of her bonny daughter. An image – a moment frozen in time.

  She had tried to stay off the booze, she really had, but it was her only way to drown the pain. If Denis hadn’t left her, maybe she could have kept it up, stayed sober, but she was lost without him.

  Laura returned the photograph to the tin and picked up another, this one of her wedding. Denis was smiling into the camera, and even in profile, she looked equally happy as she gazed up at him. Scathingly she flung it aside and reached for a glass of cheap cider.

  For a moment she looked at the amber-coloured liquid, wishing it was gin, but there was no money for spirits. Laura thought she heard a knock on the door, but ignored it as her maudlin thoughts turned to her parents. She had been a late and unexpected baby, born with a heart defect when her mother was menopausal and her father fifty-three. They had been more like grandparents and she’d hated the restricted life they had forced her to lead. No running, no playing, no excitement.

  She had an elder brother, but Andy was already a man when she’d been born and with such a huge age gap, there was little connection between them. On becoming a teenager she’d run away from home and it was many years later, when Tom
my had been born, that she’d contacted her parents. She’d had no time to tell them that they were grandparents, her mother refusing to speak to her and her father saying that they would never forgive her for the worry she had caused them. With that the telephone had been slammed down, and it was the last time Laura had tried to contact them.

  When Tommy was a year old, Laura felt a yearning for her kin again, but rather than risk the same response she had sent a letter to her brother. He had responded and travelled to London to see her, but the meeting had been strained. Just like her parents, Andy was a worry guts, telling her she shouldn’t have risked having a baby. Laura had flared up and yelled that Tommy had been worth the risk.

  They had parted on bad terms and though Andy had written to her, Laura hadn’t answered it. She was glad she hadn’t now. She didn’t want anyone in her family to see this house in Candle Lane – to find out how low she had sunk.

  There was another knock on the door. ‘Laura! Laura! Let me in!’

  Denis – it sounded like Denis! Laura rose unsteadily to her feet, finding that the room swam before her eyes. It took her a moment to find her balance and open the door. ‘So, you’ve come crawling back, have you? Where’s your key?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Denis said, stepping inside.

  ‘Who said you can come in?’

  ‘Come on, Laura,’ he wheedled. ‘I came back, didn’t I, and I’ve got a few bob.’

  Laura found she had difficulty focusing, but wasn’t drunk enough to miss the fact that he’d returned with money. ‘Why did you go off without a word?’

  ‘I couldn’t face it,’ Denis said.

  ‘Face what?’

  ‘Losing you.’

  Laura continued to stare blearily at her husband, her mind refusing to function. ‘But I got over the heart attack and you’d gone when I discharged myself from hospital.’

  ‘Think, woman! Are you forgetting your problem?’

  Laura couldn’t stay on her feet and flopped onto a chair, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Yes, she had a heart defect, but despite the doctors telling her she should never have children, she had borne two bairns. Bloody quacks, she thought, reaching for the cider again.

  Denis grabbed her hand, forcing it away from the bottle. ‘You got over your heart attack this time, but if you keep drinking, for how long?’

  ‘Leave it out. You sound like my parents. They tried to wrap me in cotton wool and it drove me mad. Anyway, why nag me about drinking now? You drink too, and you haven’t exactly been a caring husband. In fact, you hardly came to see me when I was in hospital.’

  ‘I know, but that’s because I didn’t think you’d survive and couldn’t face it.’

  ‘You’re just making excuses. You don’t care about me, so why have you come back?’

  ‘I do care, and I realised that running away doesn’t solve anything. Our marriage was fine before our little girl died, but then we both lost our way and started on the booze,’ Denis said, rubbing both hands across his face. ‘Laura, things can be different. I’ve turned over a new leaf and I haven’t had a drink for a fortnight. You can stop drinking too.’

  Laura laughed derisively as she picked up the bottle of cider again, this time successfully. ‘I did stop for a while, but didn’t enjoy the experience. Do you want a glass of this?’

  ‘Christ, woman, haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? You’ve got to stop drinking or it’ll kill you!’

  Laura stared at her husband, but the need to have a drink was too strong. She poured another glass of cider and gulped it down.

  For a moment Denis just looked at her, but then his expression hardened. ‘That’ll be the last drink you have. I’ll see to that.’

  Next door in number five, Sally clutched the solicitor’s letter confirming that divorce proceedings were in progress. She hadn’t wanted to seek legal advice, but Arthur had left her no choice.

  Time hadn’t eased Sally’s heartache and she still felt sick at the thought of Arthur and Patsy together. Not only that, the rift between Arthur and his parents showed no sign of mending and her heart went out to her in-laws. Bert continued to disown Arthur and, though she appreciated their support, she knew Elsie was taking it badly.

  Apathy gripped Sally, and though she went through the motions of living, inside she was dead. There was a rap on the letterbox, and when Sally opened the door, her face stretched in amazement. ‘Aunt Mary,’ she cried, ‘you’ve come home. Oh, it’s wonderful to see you.’

  ‘It’s lovely to see you too,’ and as she stepped inside, Sadie came out of her room. Mary greeted her softly, ‘Hello, Mother.’

  ‘So, you’re back then.’

  ‘Yes, I was missing you all. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Sadie said, but then she reached out and took Mary in her arms, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘I can’t believe you’ve come home.’

  For a moment the two women remained entwined, whilst Sally stared at her aunt, thinking she looked incredible. Mary was tanned and trim, her eyes sparkling with health, her stiff, formal hairstyle and attire gone, replaced in favour of soft waves and garments. She looked the younger sister instead of the elder, and Sally wondered what her mother would make of Mary’s appearance.

  Sadie finally let Mary go, sniffing and wiping her eyes as she said, ‘Come on, let’s go into the kitchen. I want to hear all about your travels and that job you took in Spain.’

  ‘You look as brown as a berry,’ Sally said.

  ‘The sun shines more often in Spain, even through the winter months, hence the tan, but no doubt it’ll soon fade.’

  Sally made them a drink, and listened to her aunt’s adventures, amazed by all she had seen and done. For a while it distracted her, but then seeing the solicitor’s letter on the table, her face saddened.

  ‘Enough about me,’ Mary said. ‘I’m glad to see you looking so well, Mum, but I’m not so sure about you, Sally. You look dreadfully thin. Why have you lost so much weight?’

  Sally felt a lump forming in her throat and, barely able to speak, she croaked, ‘Gran, will you tell her what’s happened?’

  ‘Yeah, all right, love.’

  With her head down, Sally listened to her gran’s words, each one like a fresh blow to her heart. ‘And to top it all,’ Sadie continued, ‘Arthur’s got his fancy piece living with him.’

  ‘No!’ Mary gasped. ‘I can’t believe it. None of you mentioned this in your letters.’

  ‘I asked them not to tell you,’ Sally said. ‘You were happy in Spain and I didn’t want you to feel you had to come back.’

  ‘Oh, Sally, I’d have jumped on the first plane. I can’t believe this of Arthur and I could kill him, I really could. I’m so sorry, my dear. You must be absolutely devastated.’

  Sally had bottled her feelings, hiding her pain in an attempt to protect Angel, but now she broke down and as her aunt stood up to hold out her arms, she ran into them. Mary patted her back, her voice a soft murmur of condolences.

  Her gran’s wasn’t so soft. ‘That’s it, girl,’ she said, ‘it’s about time you gave vent to your feelings.’

  Sally did, crying out her pain until at last she drew in great, juddering sobs. She stepped out of her aunt’s arms, managing to gasp, ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t much of a homecoming.’

  Mary brushed her apologies away, and soon they were sitting again, Sadie back to asking more about Spain while Sally felt so tired that she just wanted to close her eyes and go to sleep.

  Sally was upstairs bathing Angel when Ruth came home that evening, and seeing her sister’s shocked expression, Mary smiled.

  ‘Well, who’d have thought it?’ Ruth said. ‘I’ve just heard that Denis Walters is back, and now you’ve turned up too. Is this just a visit or are you here for good?’

  ‘I’m here to stay. It was lovely in Spain, but my family is here and I missed you.’

  ‘Look at you. You’re so brown, and what have you done to your hair?’

  ‘I let
my perm grow out.’

  ‘You should have done it years ago. It looks much nicer.’

  ‘What’s this about Denis Walters?’ Sadie interrupted.

  ‘Tommy collared me on the way home to tell me that his dad is back, and he looked as pleased as punch. Perhaps Denis will be able to sort Laura out.’

  ‘He’s as bad as her, so I doubt it.’

  Ruth sighed as she sank onto a chair, kicking off her shoes. ‘I know you’ve got your flat, but I doubt you’ll get your old job back.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll find something else.’

  ‘Where’s Sally?’ Ruth said, as though just aware that her daughter wasn’t in the room.

  ‘She’s upstairs getting Angel ready for bed.’

  ‘Poor Sally, she looks awful and so thin,’ Mary commented. ‘This break-up has obviously knocked her for six, but isn’t there anything we can do to get them back together?’

  ‘Leave it out, Mary. Now that he’s moved that tart in and filed for a divorce, Sally’s better off without him.’

  ‘Arthur’s a good man and I still find it hard to believe.’

  ‘Good man! I used to think so too, but not after this.’

  Mary frowned as she listened to the explanation of the break-up, but none of it made sense. She would go to see Arthur, and if all that had been said was true, she’d have a few choice words to say to him.

  Arthur winced as he shifted in his chair. He had been determined to get used to his prosthesis, and now managed at times without a stick, but today he had slipped awkwardly while checking a delivery and it had left his stump a bit sore.

  When they arrived home from the site, Joe had insisted on coming in, going on to cook them both a meal. He was now in the kitchen, saying he’d wash up and make them a coffee before he left.

  Arthur took off his prosthesis and was rubbing his stump when Joe came back into the room. ‘Arthur, I’d prefer it if you’d use your cane on site. It’d be safer. I don’t know why you’re in such an all-fired hurry to get rid of it.’

  ‘I want to show her that I’m not a cripple.’

  ‘I suppose you mean Sally. You’re getting a divorce, so why do you care what she thinks?’