by Mary Larkin
There were a lot of people about so late at night. At first Donald was bewildered, then he remembered midnight Mass. These people must be returning from there. He recognised Jack’s voice approaching and drew into the shadows, away from the street lights, not wanting to speak to him. Billy, Edith and Jack all passed by, but there was no sign of Margaret. Perhaps she had felt unwell and come home earlier.
He was about to turn the corner of the street when her laughter rang out. She was talking to two girls whom he recognised as old school mates. He was about to pass on when, bidding them all good night, she caught at his sleeve, bringing him to a halt.
‘Hello, Donald. Walk me back up to the house, please. I want a word with you. Good night, girls, see you around.’
In spite of the speculative glance from the girls - well, they would have heard about her treatment of him - and surprised that she wanted to speak to him, Donald suited his step to hers and they dandered back up the street.
‘I hope you didn’t mind me stopping you like that, but I couldn’t get away from them.’
So she didn’t really want to talk to him; he was the lesser of two evils. Disappointment stabbed like a knife in his chest. She proved him wrong by stopping well before they reached Edith’s door and drawing into the shadows. He followed her, trying to hide his bewilderment.
‘Donald, I’m glad of this opportunity to apologise for all the hurt I’ve caused you.’
‘Don’t worry about it, Margaret. It’s all in the past. The best man won.’
‘Did he, Donald? I’m not so sure about that.’
Her voice was soft and caressing and he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. While he was still in a daze she moved close and raised her face to his. ‘Happy Christmas, Donald.’
Her lips were inviting and, without thought, he drew her closer still and claimed them. The kiss went on and on as they swayed together and their passion flared. Before it could get out of control, she came up, panting for breath. ‘Not here. Not now. Jack will come looking for me. Do you still think the best man won, eh, Donald? See you tomorrow night.’ With a light laugh she left him standing there, gasping, his mind racing. What on earth was she playing at? Perhaps he would find out tomorrow night. His thoughts were in turmoil, but his step and heart were a good deal lighter as he headed home.
Christmas dinner was a leisurely affair stretching over a couple of hours. The starter, chilled melon and prawns, made the day before and kept refrigerated, was doused in crème de menthe and was mouth-watering. Billy was not a lover of turkey, so a large goose had been chosen to grace the table. Sizzling and crackling, it was perfectly complemented by dishes of fresh vegetables and creamed, roasted and delicious boiled small potatoes. Last but not least, a rich plum pudding tempted them to find room for it.
Praise for Edith was profound and she could barely conceal her pleasure. When everybody had eaten to bursting point, the table was cleared and they all lolled on the sofa and chairs, striving to keep their eyes open. Giving his head a good shake to dispel his sleepiness, Billy rose to his feet and announced, ‘You girls are welcome to retire for an hour or two. Remember, we are entertaining tonight. I’ll wash the dishes and clear up the kitchen.’
‘I’ll give you a hand, Dad,’ Jack volunteered.
‘Well, now . . . if you’re sure you’re up to it, I’ll be glad to take you up on your offer, Billy.’ Without more ado Edith headed for the door.
‘I feel sated. If I don’t lie down for a while I’ll not be fit to see anyone this evening.’ With a wag of her hand Margaret followed her.
Billy eyed Susan. ‘What about you, love? Won’t you go up to the spare room for an hour or so?’
‘I’d prefer to go out for a stroll and get some fresh air, if you don’t mind. I’ll walk down to the phone box. I promised the family I’d ring today, but I hate leaving you two to do all the hard work.’
‘Don’t worry your head about us, Susan. You’ll probably get roped into helping prepare the buffet for later on. Away and phone your folk. Give them my best regards.’
‘Thanks. I’ll do that. See you later.’
The wine had flowed freely during the meal and Susan felt quite tipsy as she made her way down the street, anticipating the conversation she would have with her parents. Would her father consent to talk to her? Perhaps, if he was cornered by her mother and sister, he would feel obliged to.
She dialled the number, smiling as she waited for someone to pick it up at the other end. A great sadness enveloped her as she listened to the phone ring on and on and on. A glance at her watch showed her it was four o’clock. She pictured the scene back home. It would be somewhat similar to the one she had just left. Her dad would be out for the count on the chair by the fire. Her mother would have gone to have a lie down, sure that she would hear the phone if it rang. But what about Alison? Probably she had gone over to see Graham’s parents.
Tears blinded her as she hung up the receiver and left the phone booth. This was the loneliest she had felt since leaving home. Until now she had been too busy and had managed to keep her fears and worries at bay. Now she was swamped with unhappiness. Before she realised it, she was walking along North Road. On the opposite side, Northgate Park seemed like a good place to pull herself together.
It was bitterly cold and the trees lifted frost-coated branches towards the slate-grey sky. The grass crunched under her feet and an icy wind tugged at her clothes. The park was empty except for a couple of parents obviously there under pressure while their children tried out their new bikes and roller skates. A few men were walking their dogs. She was glad there was no familiar faces about; no need to put on a brave front. Snuggling deeper into the collar of her coat to keep out the chill, she walked quickly along the path until no one else was in sight. With no one to notice, she let the tears rain freely down her face. What had she to look forward to? A very lonely life, by the look of it. Would things be any better if she had stayed at home in her own familiar - if perhaps unfriendly - surroundings? Would her parents have forgiven her by now?
Graham would most likely have realised the child was his! Would he have cared enough to give up the woman he loved to marry her? No, why should he? She had been more than willing. The child was her responsibility alone. Besides, the scandal would have been too great. Her parents would never have recovered from it. She had done the right thing, she thought. Her place was here, now. Wiping her face dry on the back of her gloves, she turned for home. At least the tears had released all the pent-up emotions she had been harbouring, and she felt better for it.
Her thoughts returned to Graham. Had he and Alison become engaged today? And what about Jim Brady? Should she write to him? She left the park and was crossing the road, deep in thought, when a voice hailed her. It was Donald Murphy. Realising there must still be some signs of her recent breakdown, she waved, silently willing him to go on. He appeared not to get the message and waited for her to reach him and his companion.
He eyed her closely, noted the sign of tears but held his tongue. Turning to the woman by his side, he said, ‘Mam, this is Susan Cummings. I’ve mentioned her to you. Susan, this is my mother.’
The women silently greeted each other with a nod.
‘I’m taking Mam to her sister’s. She’s spending the next two days there. Are you stretching your legs, Susan?’
‘Yes. I tried to phone home, but apparently no one was there, so I took a walk in the park to try and burn off some of the Christmas dinner calories before trying the phone again. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll give it another go. Nice meeting you, Mrs Murphy.’
Without waiting for an answer Susan walked away. She had been very aware of Mrs Murphy’s disapproval and it annoyed her. Why was this woman finding fault in her? She didn’t even know her.
This time the phone was answered on the third ring and an apologetic Alison made excuses for missing her earlier. Glad to hear her sister’s voice, Susan brushed these to one side. The next forty-five minutes were spe
nt talking to each member of the family. Even her father contrived to sound sincere as he wished her a happy Christmas. Then Graham came on the line. ‘Hello, Susan. How are you? I hope you’re enjoying yourself over there.’
The misery of earlier on had evaporated as she spoke to her family and she answered him truthfully enough. ‘Yes, Graham, I’m enjoying myself. Alison has been describing her ring to me. It sounds lovely. Congratulations.’
He lowered his voice. ‘Susan, have you forgiven me?’
Ignoring his question, she said, ‘Graham, I wish you and Alison the best of everything.’
‘When are you coming home? Everybody asks after you. Even Jim Brady went out of his way to inquire about you. Come home soon, Susan. We all miss you.’
‘I’ll phone again in the New Year, Graham. Happy Christmas.’ Slowly replacing the receiver, she pondered his words. It was probably her imagination, but she’d thought he sounded as if he really missed her. That was nonsense of course! Hadn’t he become engaged to her sister? And . . . Jim had been asking about her. Why? What could possibly have happened to make him inquire about her, after the way he had treated her?
Donald was waiting a short distance from the phone box. ‘I thought I’d catch you. You look much happier now. Why the tears earlier on?’
‘Oh, you know how it is. There was no answer when I rang home and I felt a bit homesick. You know what it’s like at Christmas when you’re away from home.’
‘And now?’
‘Now I feel much better.’
‘Did you enjoy your Christmas dinner?’
‘It was delicious. To be truthful, I was surprised when I heard we were having goose. Back home we always have turkey at Christmas and I didn’t fancy the idea of goose. But it was mouth-watering. Aunt Edith made an orange sauce to complement it and I thought it was very tasty indeed.’
He smiled down at her. ‘Edith would be pleased to hear so much praise of her cooking. Do you want to go for a walk?’
‘No. I’m helping to prepare the buffet for tonight. I’ll see you then.’
‘I’ll walk to the corner with you.’
She stopped at the top of the street. ‘No need for you to come any further.’ She paused. ‘Tell me, Donald, why does your mother dislike me so much?’
His face coloured. ‘She thinks anyone connected with the Devines is bad news as far as I’m concerned. I explained that we were just good friends, but she said there was no such thing as platonic friendship between a man and a woman.’
Susan grinned at his embarrassment. He sounded like a young lad. ‘Then we’ll just have to prove her wrong, won’t we? See you later on.’
Chapter Five
Alison heard the phone ringing as the car drew to a halt in the driveway and, scrambling from it, she raced up the steps and into the hall. It stopped just as she reached it. Graham locked up the car and slowly followed her inside.
She swung round to face him with a grimace. ‘That was probably Susan.’
‘I imagine it was. I told you we should have waited until after she phoned.’
He was tight-lipped with anger and she gazed at him in amazement. ‘It’s no big deal. She’ll ring back later. After all, she can’t expect us to stay in all day waiting for her to ring. She should have given us a definite time.’
‘Perhaps she can’t make definite arrangements,’ Graham said defensively on Susan’s behalf. He was trying to keep a rein on his temper. He was so disappointed to have missed her, and all because Alison wanted to show off her ring to a friend. And he might not be here when she rang again, might not get a chance to speak to her. ‘Remember, she has to get to a phone box and she might not be able to get away when she feels like it.’
‘Well, that’s just too bad then! After all, it was her choice to stay in Darlington. We certainly did our best to persuade her to come home.’ Aware that Graham was still displeased and unable to fathom the reason why, but not wanting to spoil Christmas Day, she asked coaxingly, ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘Would I not!’ he answered grumpily. ‘But you know fine well we’re going to Mother’s for tea, and I’ll be driving.’
‘We can always get a taxi.’
‘They’ll be like gold dust today. But . . .’ She waited patiently as he pondered. ‘Dad doesn’t usually drink during the day. Even Christmas Day. I’ll phone and find out if he will be able to pick us up here. However, you’ll have to stay the night at our house.’ He held her eye, knowing she would not like this idea. Alison and his mother did not really hit it off.
‘That’s all right,’ she agreed, all the while consoling herself that it wouldn’t be too bad, for there would be other people there.
Mr Robson himself answered the phone. He said there would be no problem and he would pick them up about seven. They sat on the settee and, mollified, Graham raised the glass of beer she had poured for him. ‘Happy Christmas.’ He comforted himself with the thought that Susan would surely ring again before they left.
‘Happy Christmas, and here’s to our future together.’
The fact that Graham only half-heartedly returned this salute wasn’t wasted on Alison. She couldn’t understand him. She turned her left hand this way and that, examining the solitaire diamond ring on the third finger. It was beautiful and had cost a pretty penny. Surely he must care for her, else why go to the extent of getting engaged? She glanced across at her father, spreadeagled asleep on the armchair. He had certainly been as pleased as Punch, plying Graham with drinks and insisting that he stay over the night before. Already he was planning a New Year party in their honour. Her mother had been more subdued; her congratulations no less sincere than her husband’s, but looking as if she had reservations. But then, didn’t her mother think her the flighty type?
‘I’ve been thinking, Alison . . .’
With a start she brought her attention back to Graham. He paused so long that she prompted, ‘Well?’
‘Why don’t we go over and see for ourselves how Susan is?’ At the look of amazement that she turned on him, he added hastily, ‘It would be an excuse for a wee holiday.’
Still looking surprised she cried, ‘Don’t be daft! Me dad would never hear tell of it. You and me go away together?’ Her eyes became suspicious. ‘Anyway, how come you’re so worried about our Susan?’
‘Surely it’s only natural? After all she’ll soon be my sister-in-law. And I’m really being selfish. A winter break would do both of us the world of good and we would be killing two birds with one stone.’
Still she looked unsure what he was going on about. ‘Well, anyhow . . . Dad would never hear tell of it.’
As if aware that they were talking about him, Trevor awoke with a grunt and a snort. He stretched his limbs and peered at them, bleary-eyed. ‘Did someone speak to me?’
‘No, Dad. But your name was mentioned,’ Alison admitted.
Deciding to grab the bull by the horns, Graham said, ‘Mr Cummings, I was wondering if Alison and I should visit Susan early in the New Year, just to make sure she’s all right?’
‘If you mean before you’re married, the answer’s no. At least, not with Alison, you won’t! Once you’re married you can do as you please, but to be truthful, I don’t really think Susan merits your concern. She has shown very little for us.’ Rising with difficulty from the deep chair, Trevor left the room, disapproval showing in every line of his body.
Alison shrugged her shoulders and sighed. ‘I told you so.’
Graham grimaced. ‘Pity. A wee break would be very nice. Perhaps if we worked on his compassion?’
‘My father doesn’t know the meaning of the word. At least not where our Susan’s concerned.’
‘Oh, you never know. We’ll keep plugging away at him.’
Alison turned away to hide her expression. She couldn’t understand why Graham was being so persistent. Suddenly her demeanour brightened as a possible explanation developed. She was holding him at arm’s length. Perhaps he was being devious. What if he r
eally wanted to get her completely alone and was using a visit to Susan as an excuse to do so?
It was late, after nine o’clock, before friends and neighbours started to drift into Edith’s home. This was usual, Susan was told. The effects of the Christmas meal were allowed to settle before any more food could even be considered. Soon the house was full to capacity, and still they came. It was ten o’clock before Donald eventually arrived.
Susan was chatting to Margaret when she sensed, rather than saw, her tense up. Following the direction of her look, she saw that Donald had entered the room. Seeking Edith out, he gave her a bottle of whiskey. Relieved of this duty, he scanned the room. Margaret was obviously waiting for his glance and their eyes locked.
Embarrassed at witnessing such naked longing in the girl’s eyes, Susan swung her gaze to Donald. He had yet to notice her, but she could see he was taken aback by Margaret’s reaction as well. Then he became aware of Susan and a grin split his face. Slowly he gently shouldered his way towards them, stopping to greet this one and that on the way. Margaret still stood galvanized to the spot and Susan looked frantically about for her cousin, afraid he might be witnessing this dramatic scene.
Fortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. Nudging Margaret with her elbow, she whispered furiously, ‘Get a grip on yourself, Margaret. Do you want another brawl to start?’
Margaret blinked and gave her head a slight shake as if to free it from the hypnotic trance. Just in time! Jack was suddenly there at her side. ‘Are you feeling all right, love? You look a bit pale.’
A blank gaze met these words and then Margaret seemed to become aware of her situation. She made her excuses in a whisper. ‘It’s a bit warm in here, Jack. Could we go outside for a few minutes for a breath of fresh air?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll fetch our coats and we can go for a short walk. The air will do you good.’
He made his way out to the hall, passing Donald without a glance.
Arriving at their side, Donald avoided Margaret’s intense gaze. ‘Hello, girls, that’s a smashing spread you have ready. I’m looking forward to it. Meanwhile, can I get you a drink?’
