by Kitty Neale
‘Well that’s it. He can rot in hell,’ Paul growled, ‘and he’d better not turn up here again.’
Carol hadn’t realised that she’d left out some of what had happened that night and felt a huge sense of relief that her brothers believed her now. If they had found their dad and taken him in, she would have been forced to leave, but that wasn’t going to happen now. She loved living with Paul and Davy – loved it when they took her out with them. Her bad mood lightening, she said, ‘Come on, let’s forget about Dad. We’re going to the 2i’s coffee bar tonight and I wonder who’ll be performing.’
‘Another lot of hopefuls I should think,’ Paul said. ‘Since that Tommy Hicks was spotted and signed up with Decca, the place is buzzing.’
‘He’s just had a record released called Rock with the Caveman, but he’s changed his name to Tommy Steele now,’ Dave said.
Carol hadn’t thought much of the small coffee bar when her brothers had first taken her there, the live music played in the basement, but now it had become the in place to be.
It was great to be a part of a new, emerging music scene and now Carol felt that she was really living again.
Rose was excited. They’d already exchanged contracts on the new house in Battersea and as it was an empty property, they’d soon be moving in. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’ll pop down to see Phyllis in the morning. I want to find out if she’s made up her mind about coming to work for us.’
‘My dear,’ Samuel said, ‘you don’t have to ask my permission every time you want to go out.’
‘I know, but I don’t like leaving you on your own for too long. You could come with me.’
‘No, Rose. As you know, I’ve just evicted one of my tenants on Lark Rise and feelings might be running high among his neighbours.’
‘I suppose it’s possible,’ Rose said, wondering if as Samuel’s wife, she’d take some stick too. ‘I did try to dissuade you, but you wouldn’t listen to me.’
‘Rose, I run a business, not a charity, and I can’t allow my tenants to accrue rent arrears that they’ll never be able to repay.’
‘I know, I’m not criticising you.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Now you go along to see Phyllis in the morning and don’t worry about me. I’m not so doddery that I need constant care. You’re my wife, Rose, not my nurse.’
Rose grinned, ‘I’d say that what we got up to last night proves you don’t need nursing.’
‘My father never did,’ Samuel said. ‘He lived into his late eighties and was comparatively healthy until the day he died.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ Rose managed to enthuse, though inwardly thinking that if Samuel lived that long, it would be many, many years before she became a rich widow. Still, as things were at the moment she wasn’t complaining. Samuel was generous, her extensive new wardrobe proved that, along with her weekly allowance. He’d also recently suggested driving lessons so that she could have her own car.
She had soon adapted to living in luxury, Rose thought, and when she went to visit her cousin now the contrast in their lifestyles was starkly obvious. Though she knew she could help her cousin financially, Rose also guessed that Phyllis would be too proud to accept handouts. At least in offering her the job as their cleaner, Phyllis would be earning more money, and that was a start.
She’d just have to be devious, Rose decided, in finding other ways to help Phyllis, if not financially then in other areas. She looked around the sitting room and an idea came to mind, one that would serve them both. She’d have to get around Samuel, but she’d already found that as long as he was in the right mood, it wasn’t too difficult.
Rose smiled. When they went to bed, she knew just how to make Samuel amenable to her suggestions. She glanced at the clock – it was far too early to retire yet, but later she would get her own way.
At ten thirty that evening, after going to the cinema with Tommy, Amy was snuggled up to him in his van, parked outside her house. The summer was over and the autumn evening chilly, but in the van they were protected from a fall of light rain.
‘Sorry,’ Tommy said after yawning widely.
‘You’re tired, and with the hours you’re working I’m not surprised.’
‘I’m fine and as it’s Sunday tomorrow I can have a lie in,’ he said.
Amy placed her hand gently on his cheek, saying softly, ‘That’s something I suppose. At least you aren’t working seven days a week.’
‘If it could bring the date of our wedding forward, I would.’
‘We haven’t discussed a date,’ Amy told him.
‘If business continues to go well, and if I get a nice big contract again, how do you feel about next spring … perhaps April?’
‘I’d love that, but what if you don’t get a large contract?’ Amy asked as she drew away from Tommy. ‘I know we’re not going to have a big wedding, but we’d still need a firm date to book the registry office.’
Tommy bit his lower lip in thought and then said, ‘Do you think Rose’s husband meant it when he said he’d rent us one of his houses?’
‘Yes, I’m sure he did.’
‘Well then, new contract or not, if we start off in something small, maybe a one-bedroom flat, the rent would be low.’
‘We’d have my wages too,’ Amy pointed out.
‘I don’t expect you to work when we’re married.’
‘Tommy, there’s no need for me to stay at home just to clean a one-bedroom flat.’
‘I still don’t like the idea, but we can talk about that another time. For now, come here and give me a kiss,’ he said.
Amy went willingly into his arms, melting as their kisses grew deeper, until aware of Tommy’s rising passion, she breathlessly pulled away. ‘I … I’m sorry, Tommy. I want to wait until we’re married.’
‘I know,’ he groaned, and though obviously frustrated he added, ‘I do too, so let’s make a firm date for the second Saturday in April.’
Amy willingly agreed and soon after she slipped out of the van to go indoors, still smiling with happiness.
Stan had just come in from the pub, followed shortly by Amy, and seeing the look on her daughter’s face, Phyllis said, ‘You look chuffed about something.’
‘I am,’ Amy said, her eyes sparkling. ‘We’ve set a date for the wedding.’
‘What! Already!’ Stan exclaimed.
‘It’s all right, Dad. It won’t be until next year … in April.’
‘But you’ve hardly been engaged for five minutes,’ he protested.
‘It’s been four months, and by next April it will have been ten.’
Unlike Stan, Phyllis was happy about the date, and said, ‘That gives us six months to sort out all the arrangements.’
‘Mum, I’ve already talked to Tommy and we’ve decided on a small, registry office wedding.’
‘No, Amy,’ Phyllis protested. ‘I want to see my daughter walking down the aisle in church, wearing a beautiful, flowing white gown that’s fit for a princess.’
‘I’m sorry, but it isn’t what we want.’
‘Tommy might want a simple wedding, but I can’t believe it’s what you want, Amy. Every girl dreams of a huge white wedding.’
‘But don’t you see, Mum, it wouldn’t be huge. There’s just us, Rose and Samuel, along with a few friends. On Tommy’s side of the church, if his mother refuses to come, the pews would be virtually empty too.’
‘She’s got a point, love,’ Stan said.
Phyllis didn’t want to admit it, but Amy was right – a church wedding would be a very spartan affair. As for Celia Frost, it made her fume that she still chose to ignore Amy and she hoped the woman would end up alone and lonely as she deserved. Pushing Tommy’s mother from her mind, Phyllis said, ‘Fine, a registry office it is, but I still want it to be a special day, Amy, with you in a lovely dress, and flowers, lots of flowers.’
‘All right, Mum, whatever you say, and afterwards we could sort of copy Rose and go to a restaurant.’
Celia had made Thomas a cup of cocoa before they retired for the night, and after drinking it he said, ‘Mother, before we go to bed I have something to tell you. Amy and I are going to marry next year and we’ve decided on April.’
She stared at him in horror. ‘No, Thomas, you can’t mean that!’
‘I’d hardly say it if I didn’t mean it.’
‘Next April! No, I can’t believe it.’
‘I don’t see why. We’re engaged and you must have known the wedding would follow.’
‘I didn’t want to think about it.’
‘I know … you buried your head in the sand, but you’ve got to face up to it now. Amy is going to be my wife, your daughter-in-law and you’ve got to accept that. You’ve also got to stop slighting Amy. It’s gone on for long enough.’
‘I haven’t got to do anything,’ Celia snapped.
Thomas reacted angrily, his voice rising. ‘Fine, but if that’s your attitude, think about this. When I marry my loyalties will be to my wife – and I won’t be visiting you if Amy isn’t welcome too.
Celia’s stomach churned with a mixture of anger and fury. Thomas had made his feelings clear. If she didn’t accept Amy, she’d lose him too. It rankled, but there really was no other choice and she said, ‘Thomas, you know I couldn’t bear that. All right, invite Amy to join us for dinner tomorrow and I’ll do my best to make her welcome.’
The anger drained from his face as Thomas said, ‘You won’t regret it, Mum. Amy is a sweet, kind person and I’m sure that like me, you’ll grow to love her.’
Celia felt like telling her son that hell would freeze over before that happened, but Thomas stood up, leaned over to kiss her and said he was going to bed. She bade him goodnight, and watched him leave the room, while she was left still inwardly fuming.
Thomas had chosen Amy over her, and now he had the audacity to virtually blackmail her into accepting the common slut too. While words of vitriol against Amy poured into her mind, Celia grabbed a writing pad, putting them all down on paper, along with everything that had happened since George walked out.
When it was finished, Celia found an envelope and the last address she had for her son Jeremy. He had probably moved on by now so might never receive it; but if he did, Jeremy would at least know what a terrible life his mother now suffered, Celia thought.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Phyllis looked around her living room, smiling, despite the cold and wet Thursday December morning. When Rose had moved into her new house, she’d insisted on some new furniture, and as always Samuel had given in to her.
To save her the hassle of getting rid of it, Rose had begged her to take some of the furniture from the Bethnal Green house off her hands and Phyllis had been happy to oblige. The suite may be old, but to Phyllis it was beautiful, the fabric a plush rose brocade that showed hardly any signs of wear. It was a bit large for her small living room, but Phyllis didn’t care, and though she’d only been able to make use of one pair of the matching, pinch pleat curtains, they made the room look warm and inviting, if a little crowded. The Christmas tree didn’t help; though only a small one it took up one side of the hearth, one of the chairs in front of it hiding the lower branches. She’d forgone any other decorations, just putting ornaments on the tree, and it did look rather nice, Phyllis thought, smiling at the very old, homemade angel on the top.
Of course Phyllis knew her home was still nothing in comparison to her cousin’s, but she didn’t envy or begrudge Rose her change of fortunes. Instead she was growing ever closer to her cousin and looked forward to going to work every day. With that in mind, Phyllis put her coat on, grabbed her umbrella and hurried out. The scaffolding was still up outside the house, along with Mabel’s and the empty ones on either side of them, though in this weather Phyllis doubted the roofers would be working that day.
Phyllis was glad she didn’t have to worry about the weather. It was lovely and warm in Rose’s house and any worries she’d had that her cousin would lord it over her had soon been dispelled. In fact, Rose insisted that they do the housework together, which meant it took a lot less than five hours, leaving them loads of time to spend in the kitchen, chatting over cups of tea.
With the wind buffeting her umbrella, by the time Phyllis arrived she was soaked. Rose took one look at her and urged her to the kitchen where her coat was swiftly removed, a towel handed to her and dry slippers offered for her feet.
‘You should have stayed at home,’ Rose chided. ‘I could have managed without you.’
‘It’ll be Christmas soon and with saving for Amy’s wedding too, I didn’t want to lose five hours’ pay.’
‘You silly mare, I’d still have given you your full wage,’ Rose protested as she poured two hot drinks. ‘Here, get this down you and you can dry off before we start work.’
‘I feel guilty enough without letting you pay me when I don’t turn up,’ Phyllis said, voicing her feelings.
‘I don’t get it. What have you got to feel guilty about?’
‘Rose, even if I did it on my own, it wouldn’t take five hours a day to clean this house. Most of the bedrooms aren’t used, and with just you and Samuel living here the rest of the house is so tidy that it hardly needs one pair of hands, let alone two to keep it nice.’
‘Leave it out. There’s polishing, hoovering, along with the laundry and ironing.’
‘They’d still get done if you cut my hours.’
‘No, I don’t want to do that,’ Rose said, shaking her head emphatically.
‘You must,’ Phyllis insisted. ‘I’m not daft and though I really appreciate what you’re doing, it’s making me feel like a charity case.’
‘Now hold on, you’ve got it all wrong. Our last cleaner did the same hours as you, and this house is about the same size.’
‘Yes, but did you help her to clean it?’
‘Well, no, but I enjoy doing it with you,’ Rose answered. ‘We have a laugh, and if you must know I don’t want to cut your hours because I love having you here every day. Samuel isn’t one for conversation, at least not women’s talk, and I’d go potty if I only had him for company.’
‘I thought you were paying me for five hours’ work because you think I need the money.’
‘Phyllis, I don’t know where you got that daft idea from, but now that we’ve sorted it out, get that drink down you and we can make a start on the living room. Oh, and by the way, I’ve got a nice dinner service put by for Amy.’
‘Rose …’ Phyllis warned.
‘Now don’t start again. It isn’t charity; it’s one the last people who lived here left behind and I found it boxed up in the cellar. With the amount of china I’ve got already, I haven’t got room in my cupboards for another one, and anyway, it isn’t as nice. There are lots of other bits and pieces down there too, but if you’re going to turn funny every time I offer stuff I was going to chuck out anyway, I won’t bother again.’
‘I’m sorry, Rose. I know I can be a bit touchy.’
‘A bit! Now that’s an understatement,’ Rose said, chuckling.
Phyllis pushed her playfully on the arm and for the next hour they worked companionably together, chatting. During a pause Rose asked, ‘How is it going with Celia Frost?’
‘It isn’t going anywhere. As you know we were invited to dinner, but the woman acted as though she’s related to royalty and it got right up my nose. It was worse when I returned the invitation and she actually inspected her knife and fork before using them. For Amy’s sake I managed to keep my mouth shut, but the less I see of that stuck-up cow the better.’
‘So you won�
�t be spending Christmas together as a family then?’
‘You must be joking. No thanks.’
‘I know it’s only twelve days to Christmas and it’s a bit late to suggest it, but how about coming here?’
‘Or you could come to us,’ Phyllis said.
‘No offence, love, but it’d be a bit of a squash.’
‘None taken, and anyway, you’re right,’ Phyllis agreed.
‘So you’ll come here?’ Rose urged.
‘Yes, we’d love to.’
‘Smashing, but maybe you should run it past Stan and Amy first.’
‘Stan gets on really well with Samuel and I know he’ll agree, and as I doubt Celia Frost will invite Amy to spend Christmas with her, I should think she’ll be happy to come here too.’
‘That’s settled then,’ Rose said as they carried on cleaning. She broke off occasionally to spend a little time with Samuel, and then at twelve thirty they all shared lunch together, something else her cousin had insisted on from the day that Phyllis started working for her.
Samuel picked up the second half of his sandwich, but before biting into it he said, ‘Phyllis, my agent has told me that the work on your house and the others is near completion.’
‘Thank you, Samuel. It’ll be lovely for us not to have leaky roofs.’
‘Yes, well, though it’s costing me a lot of money, Rose pointed out that I’ve been a bit remiss in keeping my properties in good repair.’
When Rose winked at her, Phyllis hid a smile. They’d been complaining for years without result, but Rose had worked wonders in such a short time. Samuel may have been a skinflint in the past, but it seemed he was putty in Rose’s hands.
Rose now said, ‘Samuel, it makes sound business sense. If you don’t maintain your properties, they’ll end up only fit for demolition.’
‘Yes, yes, but it’ll take a long time to recoup the cost of the work in rent payments.’
Phyllis was hardly listening as she felt a surge of excitement at something else that Rose had achieved. Once the repairs were done and the house decorated, she’d pass on the news, but for now she was keeping it a secret – a lovely one that she’d enjoy revealing.
