Putting on the Style

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘I don’t see why not. This isn’t a hotel, tha knows.’

  At which point Dena crept away. She would try to avoid her mother by spending more and more time sewing in the front parlour which now doubled as her bedroom, claustrophobic though that might be.

  During the long cold winter, Dena had returned to the shop where she’d rented the radio and this time asked to rent a television set. The young man clearly remembered her for he asked if she had a husband yet.

  ‘Actually no, I haven’t, and my father is still dead, but a friend will sign your form, if you insist upon it.’

  ‘I do. The law has not changed, you know,’ the young man said, rather pompously.

  ‘Silly me, not appreciating that only married people can rent TV sets.’

  At least having the television gave them momentary respite from Alice’s constant carping, though she did still manage to find fault with jolly Jimmy Edwards in Whack-O! and even with Muffin the Mule, complaining that she could see the puppets strings.

  ‘Does it matter?’ Dena remarked, thinking that if poor Muffin the Mule couldn’t get it right, what hope had she?

  It was one Sunday afternoon after Dena had been talking to Carl for some time at the door, making their lingering farewells, when Winnie took her to one side and said, ‘Why don’t you ask your young man in? He could stop for tea maybe. Your mam’s gone out for tea to the Midland, living it up again, so you’re quite safe.’

  Dena gazed at her in alarm. ‘What young man?’

  ‘Nay lass, I’m not blind. Those lovely cheeks of yours aren’t flushed a rosy pink just because of this cold weather. He’s all right is Carl, let the lad come in. Apart from anything else, you’ll catch your death standing at that door, as well as entertaining half the neighbours.’

  ‘No one can see us, we’ve been most careful.’

  Winnie gave her an old fashioned look. ‘Aren’t you aware how your little face lights up whenever he comes near? And at the market you snatch any opportunity to do a walkabout, taking twice as long as normal to post a letter or fetch us a sandwich, just so’s you can stop and have a chat with him on the way back. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. And if I’ve guessed how things are between you, then others must too.’

  ‘Oh, Winnie, I hope Kenny hasn’t. We’re trying so hard not to hurt him. If I could only convince him that it’s all over between us, but he simply won’t listen.’

  ‘Well, this isn’t the way to go about it. If neither you nor Carl are prepared to tell him, then someone else will do that task for you, sure as night follows day.’

  ‘Oh, goodness, we never considered that possibility.’

  ‘Then it’s long past time you did. Go on, the poor lad will only be half way down the road by now. Go and fetch him back and give him a hot cuppa at least.’

  Dena ran, catching up with Carl just as he was about to turn the corner into Hardman Street. He was at once alarmed by the sight of her, all out of breath and rosy with excitement.

  ‘Dena, what is it, what’s happened?’

  His reaction seemed to indicate how much they were living on their nerves. ‘Winnie says you’re to come to tea. Will you?’

  ‘How did she find out?’

  ‘Apparently I light up, presumably like a firework, whenever you come near.’ Dena giggled and Carl couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘Then I’d best come at once. It could be quite entertaining watching you go off like a Roman candle, or do you whizz round like a spinning wheel?’

  ‘My head is certainly spinning right now. Winnie thinks we should tell Kenny together, confront him with the truth.’

  He gathered her face in his hands so that he could better kiss her. ‘Do you think we should?’

  ‘Oh, not yet, not yet. Come on, let’s not think about Kenny. Let’s just be normal and have tea.’

  Hand in hand they ran back to Winnie’s house, so wrapped up in each other they didn’t even see a shadowed figure slip back into a doorway.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  It was wonderful to sit in her own parlour with Carl. They’d enjoyed one of Winnie’s special Sunday teas of boiled ham and salad, then together they’d put Trudy to bed, Carl helping by reading the little girl a story while Dena warmed her cocoa.

  Now they sat cuddled together on the sofa in the front room, which also doubled as Dena’s bed, a fire blazing in the hearth and the little girl fast asleep in her cot beside them.

  ‘I think this could go to my head, having you all to myself. Maybe I’ll be the one going off like a fire cracker, whooping with delight.’

  Dena giggled and kissed his chin, which was all she could reach nestled so close to his chest.

  There was a long silence and then he said, ‘I suppose you do realise that I love you.’

  Something turned over inside her, and then there really was an explosion of pure joy, just like fireworks, going off in her head. ‘Oh Carl, and I love you too.’

  He kissed her soft mouth, the arch of her throat, caressing her silky skin and holding her tightly to him as if he might never let her go. She made no protest when he slid open the buttons of her blouse, and she helped him with the fastening of her bra, her hear beating so fast she could hardly breathe.

  ‘I’m not sure we should be doing this.’

  ‘I love you,’ cupping her face in his hands to kiss her some more. He was a gentle and considerate lover and when he kissed the buds of her breasts, their passion ignited. Dena couldn’t remember ever experiencing anything more wonderful. His tender touches, his kisses, melted her heart. Her own fingers had pulled open Carl’s shirt, were exploring the hard plain of his chest, running up into the wiry curls of his hair. More than anything Dena wanted him to make love to her. Whatever she had felt for Kenny had been nothing but calf-love compared to this.

  And the thought came to her that if she wanted to let him, she could. Why not? It would not be out of rebellion this time, but from pure love. Surely there could be no better reason for giving herself to a man?

  But then she remembered Trudy, sleeping so innocently beside them, and knew that it wouldn’t be right. She didn’t care that people still turned their back on her, but how it hurt when they did that to her baby. She’d been a child herself when she’d got pregnant. But she was now a woman.

  Hot and tousled Dena pulled herself free and sat back to smile at him, her breathing shallow and rapid, eyes glazed with desire. ‘We have to stop this. You know we do. It’s all going a bit too . . .’

  ‘Fast?’

  ‘Mm.’ Dena thought he might be annoyed with her for stopping him, but he only grinned. ‘You’re right, as always. The last thing I want is to rush you, or hurt you in any way, Dena.’

  ‘Oh, Carl.’

  She felt cherished and loved, deeply secure, knowing that they did indeed belong together. ‘I’m sorry, only I daren’t take the risk, not after – you know.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain, I understand. I got a bit carried away.’

  She lay in his arms and he stroked her hair, both breathing deeply, trying to contain their emotion.

  ‘I do want to have children with you, Dena, but I agree, this isn’t the best way. We’ll wait until after we’re married. You will marry me, won’t you Dena?’

  She looked up at him, her face a rosy glow of delight. ‘Oh Carl, I would like nothing better. But I already have a child. What about Trudy? Do you mind that she isn’t yours?’ Dena asked the question shyly, her heart in her mouth, knowing she could never marry a man who couldn’t love her child as much as she did.

  His reply came, sure and firm. ‘Of course not. Kenny has never seemed particularly interested in being a dad. Perhaps he would give permission for me to adopt Trudy, so that I can be a proper father to her. I’d like that very much.’

  For a long moment no more words were possible as she wept silent tears of joy on his shoulder. ‘I can’t believe this is happening. It’s all so wonderful, so unexpected, just like a fairy tale.’ Den
a scrubbed at her eyes, tried to restore order to her tumbled curls, to calm the emotion bubbling inside. ‘I love you so much and yet you were once so grumpy towards me. So bad tempered and mean.’

  Carl laughed, still with that dangerous glitter in his dark blue eyes. ‘I think I’ve always loved you, and hated to see you with Kenny.’

  ‘You were jealous?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  She snuggled close, sure at last that she was loved and so very content and happy to be so. ‘We should tell him. Shall we do it together, as Winnie suggests?’

  Carl shook his head. ‘No, I’ll do it. I owe him that much at least. I don’t want you upset by this any more than necessary.’

  ‘When will you do it?’

  ‘Soon, don’t worry. It’ll be fine.’

  And she snuggled close, deeply content, not imagining for a moment that everything by then might well have changed.

  Alice still wasn’t making things easy for her, nor for Winnie, who revealed herself as having the patience of a saint, for all she frequently claimed that she’d gladly throttle Alice if she could.

  ‘She leaves her laundry in a bag at her bedroom door, just as if I’m the flaming maid. Where does she think she is, the Midland Hotel? And that’s another thing. Not that it’s any of my business but do you know how often she goes there? Teas, lunches, she must be spending a small fortune feeding her face in that place.’

  ‘Really?’ Dena was startled, wondering where on earth her mother got the money from.

  Winnie lowered her voice as she slapped a plate on the draining board for Dena to dry. ‘I don’t wish to probe and you can tell me to mind me own business, but is she paying her share of your rent?’

  Dena shook her head, looking thoughtful. ‘No, but if she can afford to treat herself to meals at the Midland, maybe it’s time we had a little chat.’

  She chose to broach the subject that same evening, just as soon as supper had been cleared away. Guessing what was coming Winnie made herself scarce. ‘I’ll go and read a story to our little treasure. You can put your feet up and have a rest for a change.’

  Dena took a deep breath, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy. ‘I was wondering, Mam, how long you were thinking of stopping.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Because if it was going to be for quite a while, I thought maybe you’d consider making a donation towards your keep.’

  ‘You want me to pay rent, for staying with my own daughter? I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

  ‘You aren’t staying with your daughter, not strictly speaking. This is Winnie’s house and it all costs money to run. Coal, electric, gas. I know we’re off rationing now but that chicken pie you’ve just eaten still has to be paid for, and even the crinkle cut chips take time and effort.’

  ‘Crinkle cut chips. I never saw anything so common in my life. Quite unnecessary.’

  ‘They’re not common, they’re sophisticated. Winnie likes to keep up with fashion. She’s planning on having the kitchen done up, new cupboards with formica tops and everything, to go with the new Cannon cooker, and the Hoover Twin Tub she’s recently bought. But Winnie isn’t here to do your laundry, or wait on you hand, foot and finger. You can learn to use it yourself, Mam, it’s not difficult.’

  Alice’s jaw dropped. ‘You want me to operate that thing? Never! I won’t lower myself to use any new fangled machine. I wash everything by hand.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You get other people to do your laundry for you. Well, that’s fine, but you’ll have to pay for it in future. It’s only fair.’

  ‘Really! I never thought to hear a daughter of mine say such things to her own mother. I must say you’ve turned very greedy and selfish. I suppose it’s got something to do with this new man friend of yours.’

  Dena went cold. ‘What new man friend? What are you talking about? I don’t have any new man.’

  Alice lowered her chin so that she could peer condescendingly down at her daughter from above her spectacles. ‘I saw you the other day walking with a man. It was raining and he was all muffled up, and I wasn’t near enough to see who he was, but I most certainly saw him kiss you. Really, Dena, you are so cheap.’

  ‘I’m not staying here to listen to this.’ Dena was on her feet, ready to make a dash for it, thankful that Carl must have been too muffled up in coat and scarf for her mother to recognise him. Nevertheless, Alice was determined to have the last word.

  ‘I should think, the way you’re going on, you’ll have a house full of bastards before you’re done.’

  Emotion welled up in her throat and for a second Dena was a child again, constantly belittled and criticised and put upon by her dreadful mother, and then she heard Trudy’s laughter from the front room where Winnie was reading her a story, and Dena remembered that she was a mother herself now. She was a young woman, not a child, and really didn’t have to tolerate this kind of bad mouthing.

  ‘Mam, that’s the last time you use that word in this house or I’ll personally throw you out of it. Do you understand?’ Dena turned away in disgust, but then remembered the point of their discussion. ‘Oh, and your share of the rent will be fifteen shillings. I’ll let you off back rent, you can think of that as a holiday with your daughter but from now on rent is due on a Friday, right?’

  ‘Well, I never!’ said Alice. ‘Over my dead body.’

  Dena actually laughed out loud at that. ‘If you don’t start doing your own laundry I reckon Winnie might oblige you with that too, free and gratis.’

  Dena managed to avoid spending too much time in the proximity of her mother by concentrating entirely upon sewing her new designs in preparation for the fashion show. The Co-op had agreed to loan her their rooms for a modest fee and the local paper had promised to come along and do a piece on the show, even take a few photos. The resulting publicity, Dena knew, would be good for trade and hopefully bring in a rush of new orders.

  She had a dream of supplying other retail outlets, besides Winnie’s stall, now that she had Joan to help her. The show would be her best chance to gain new orders.

  For weeks now she’d spent half of every day up in the eerie of Winnie’s stock room, squeezed into a corner with Joan, the pair of them whirring the machines so fast they barely had time to draw breath let alone chat.

  Today, however, it was bitterly cold on the market, too cold even for snow and ‘flu was rife. It was turning into quite an epidemic with several of the stall-holders off work, including Joe Southworth and Belle Garside, which was giving his wife Irma pause for thought.

  Winnie had been sneezing her head off all morning and Dena insisted she go home early and get the fire going. ‘Take a couple of Aspirin and keep warm. I’ll mind the stall and see that it’s all locked up safely.’

  ‘I’ll take little Trudy home with me then, shall I?’ Winnie suggested. ‘I can keep an eye on her while she plays on the rug and I sit and feel sorry myself.’

  Dena laughed. ‘All right, but don’t give her your cold, will you?’ She’d given up all hope of her mother helping, considering herself blessed just to have Winnie as a friend.

  ‘If you’ll tell me how to avoid it, I’ll see that I don’t.’

  ‘No kisses and cuddles.’

  ‘Oh, all right, but it’s going to be hard. She’s cruel your mam, isn’t she, love?’

  Trudy held out her arms to be picked up, then gave a big sneeze, and they all laughed, most of all Trudy, who thought she’d done something very clever.

  ‘Keep her warm too. I’ll bring home something tasty for tea, and medicine for you both.’

  It was another quiet afternoon which Dena spent again working on her designs for the fashion show, which she hoped to hold around Easter time in April. She and Joan had hardly stopped for weeks, and had already got a nice little collection together. Even so, there was still a great deal of work to be done.

  On this afternoon though, she decided to close early to check on her patients. She was worrie
d about Trudy. The little girl was far too young to catch ‘flu.

  Dena sensed, the moment she entered the front parlour, that something wasn’t right. The first thing she noticed was that all her notes and plans were scattered all over the floor, as if a door had been opened and a blast of wind had blown them about. But since it hadn’t been windy today, that was most odd.

  Looking more closely she saw that small things had been touched or moved. Her hair brush for instance, and a book she’d been reading. It was as if someone had picked them up and put them back in the wrong place. A blouse she was almost certain she’d left on a coat hanger hooked over a cupboard door to air after ironing, had been left tossed on the sofa in a crumpled heap. Something Dena would never do.

  She was also perfectly certain that she’d pinned pieces of cut-out cloth from the pattern onto her dressmaker’s dummy, but instead they were stuffed in her work basket, one section torn.

  Walking into Winnie’s living room she found it empty and she quickly stoked up the fire, putting on more coal to warm the place up. All the doors and windows were still closed and locked but Winnie’s knitting was no longer on the chair by the fire where she’d left it. Could she have felt well enough to come down for it?

  Dena went into the kitchen to put the kettle on, then heard a banging upstairs. Winnie must be awake. Oh, of course, it could be her mother. For a moment she’d quite forgotten that Alice might be in the house too.

  Dena decided she’d better pop upstairs to check on her patients, then find out if her mother needed supper, or if she’d eaten already. Dena had rather hoped that she’d already made it clear that meals were not going to be provided for her every day. She realised it was too much to expect Alice to have prepared a meal for her, even if Winnie and Trudy were both ill.

  She reached the landing and was about to turn towards Winnie’s room when she saw that her mother’s bedroom door was ajar. The banging was coming from there. Creeping closer she took a peep and saw there was someone in there. A man! What was he doing? Dear lord, was he trying to rape Alice? Dena heard a low moan and realised that, far from being assaulted, her mother was actually revelling in the sex session. Savouring every moment in fact.