by Nancy Revell
‘So, they’re going to charge him?’ Jack asked, trying to keep his voice even.
Gloria nodded, although she had no idea if they would or not. It was still a domestic. And she was sure that once Vinnie had calmed down and told them his tale of woe about being lied to by his conniving wife – who, he had just found out, was not only having an affair but had also had another man’s baby – he might just end up walking out of the custody suite a free man.
Jack pushed himself out of the armchair and stood up. ‘We have to come clean about everything now.’ He started pacing the small living room. ‘Enough secrets.’
Gloria had known this was coming. She had lain awake most of the night in the hospital, her mind turning over what to do, and what not to do.
She knew Jack and Vinnie well enough to have a good guess at what was going through both their minds. Vinnie would be sitting in his cell, becoming increasingly wound up. He was probably just simmering at the moment as the beating he had given her had probably taken his temper off the boil. He’d also be worried about what the police were going to do with him. But she knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d find himself back at boiling point. Gloria had learnt a lot these past few months. She had been working long hours, and had her hands full with Hope, but she’d still had time on her own to think, and she had come to realise just how controlling Vinnie had been. Or rather, how controlled she had been by him. And if there was one thing that got Vinnie’s temper piping hot, it was the fact he wasn’t in the driver’s seat any more.
‘I agree with you,’ Gloria said, taking a sip of her tea and savouring it. It had been a long night and it was looking as though she had another long day ahead of her.
‘That’s good.’ Jack was visibly relieved. ‘I thought I’d have an argument with you on my hands.’
Gloria took another sip.
‘I agree. It’s inevitable we have to tell everyone about us, and, of course, about Hope.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But I really think we have to choose our timing well.’
Jack looked at her and was about to object. If it was up to him, he would march right back to the home he shared with Miriam and tell her everything.
‘I know you just want to go straight back to Miriam and tell her everything,’ Gloria said, as if reading his thoughts. ‘And so do I,’ she stressed, her arms stretched out as she gently took hold of Jack’s large hands, gnarled and scarred from his early years at the yard.
‘It’s going to be wonderful to finally be free of all these secrets and lies.’ Gloria looked around her front room, which was spick and span and homely. ‘We can live here together, or better still, find a new place that we can make our own.’
Jack nodded, thinking how lovely it would be to come back to a place they could call their own and simply enjoy being a family.
‘But,’ Gloria added, her voice becoming more serious, ‘this isn’t just about us. I did a lot of thinking last night.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Obviously, I don’t give a fig about Miriam. You know that already. She’s the most heartless person I know, just out for herself.’ Jack nodded his agreement. Since he had started to get his memory back, he’d had flashes of his former life with Miriam and they had not tallied with the picture his wife of twenty years had painted – in any shape or form.
‘It’s Helen I feel awful about.’ Gloria’s voice changed; the guilt she was feeling could be heard in her voice and seen on her face.
‘She was so brave saving me from Vinnie. No one’s ever stood up for me like that. She came to see me in the back of the ambulance and I felt terrible. It was far more painful than all the beatings I’ve had off Vinnie. I felt so guilty. There she was, risking getting battered to a pulp herself—’
Gloria broke off. She’d been lying on the ground, her arms shielding herself from Vinnie’s fists, when she’d caught a glimpse of Helen, her face contorted with fear as she’d swung the shovel round and knocked Vinnie flying.
‘That girl was terrified. But she protected me all the same.’ Tears had now come into Gloria’s eyes. How wrong could you be about someone. They had all demonised Helen for so long now, she had become a two-dimensional figure. A caricature. But she wasn’t. She was a young woman who had problems, just like they all had. And, just like the rest of the women welders, she’d stuck her neck out when required and put her own safety on the line to help another woman in need.
‘I want you to give her one last Christmas before this scandal breaks. Because it is going to be scandalous, no matter how we go about it. Her life is going to change, just as ours is. And I know how much she adores you – how she was by your side while you were in the coma and how determined she’s been to help you get better.’
Gloria had now started to cry. She hated hurting people. And she knew Helen was going to be devastated when she found out.
Jack got out of his chair and sat down next to Gloria on the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry out her tears. He knew Gloria was right. And he realised that he had been pushing thoughts of Helen to the back of his mind, convincing himself that she would take it all in her stride – that she’d be fine. But he knew he was kidding himself.
‘You’re right,’ Jack said when Gloria had stopped quietly weeping.
‘You’re right,’ he said again. ‘Helen is going to be devastated. I’ve not thought it through, have I? I’ve been selfish. And the last thing she needs is two selfish parents.’
There was a pause as he thought about Christmas, which was just a few days away. It would be hard to keep his feelings in check around Miriam, but he’d have to. His daughter deserved it. He owed her. He would make this Christmas special. And it might also help lay the foundations for a future in which he hoped Helen would be able to forgive him, and perhaps also become a sister to Hope.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘Come on then, darling, I’m taking you out to lunch!’
Helen jerked her head up from some order forms and invoices she was checking at her desk. She had a cigarette burning in an ashtray next to her.
‘Honestly, Helen, it’s as foggy in here as it is out there.’ Miriam waved a hand about in a vain attempt to clear the air.
Helen stared up at her mother. She had been intending to work through her lunch break, not because there was a need to, but simply because she wanted to avoid any kind of human contact.
‘Go to the ladies and powder your nose. I’m treating you to lunch at the Grand!’ Miriam said, forcing a wide smile on her face. ‘And put a little lipstick on. You never know who we might meet.’ Miriam tried to make their luncheon date sound as though it might be fun, with the potential of meeting a future beau.
‘All right,’ Helen said, but her tone in no way mirrored her mother’s. ‘I have to be back by one, though. I’ve got a lot of work to do.’
Miriam had to bite her tongue and stop herself from snapping and telling her daughter to ‘Cheer up!’ God, the girl looked like she was dressed for a wake in that morbid black dress she was wearing. She’d nearly said as much when she’d walked into the office, but had managed to stop herself; this was no time for honesty – she had to concentrate on what she had come here to do.
She watched as Helen walked across the open-plan office, now empty of workers, and disappeared into the ladies’ bathroom.
As soon as she was gone from view, Miriam hurried over to one of the tall metal filing cabinets that lined the walls of the office. She had visited Jack here enough times during his many years as yard manager to know where everything was kept.
Pulling out the bottom drawer, Miriam rifled her way through files stuffed full of paperwork until she found what she was looking for.
‘Yes!’ she said triumphantly to herself.
She was in luck. The women’s employment records had been kept separate from the men’s; probably because they were only considered to be temporary. Once the war was over, it was expected that the men would return and reclaim their jobs.
Taking the fil
e and laying it open on the desk, Miriam looked up quickly to check Helen wasn’t coming back. Confident she had at least a few undisturbed minutes to find out what she needed, she quickly thumbed through the file. Every now and again she pulled out a thick sheet of paper embossed with the Thompson header and put it to one side.
When she’d been through the whole file, she counted the number of documents she had put in a separate pile on Helen’s desk.
‘Perfect,’ Miriam muttered to herself.
As she folded the six single sheets of paper, she heard a noise and looked up to see Rosie coming through the main doors by the top of the stairs.
Quick as a flash, Miriam stuffed the hastily folded documents into her handbag and snapped it shut. She was just returning the file to the cabinet by the time Rosie reached the doorway of the office.
‘Ah, Mir—sorry, Mrs Crawford,’ Rosie said, surprised, ‘I’m looking for Helen.’ She looked around as if Helen might be hiding in a corner.
Miriam let out a small laugh. ‘Well, Rosie, as you can see, she’s not here.’
There was a pause.
Rosie’s eyes strayed from Miriam to the cabinet she was standing next to and that she could have sworn she’d seen her closing.
The silence was broken by the sound of Helen’s heeled shoes clip-clopping across the linoleum floor.
‘Ah,’ Rosie turned and smiled at Helen, ‘I just wanted a quick word while I had the chance.’ She looked at Miriam, hoping she would leave her to speak in private with Helen.
‘Well, make it quick,’ Miriam butted in. ‘I’m taking my daughter out to lunch today. And we’re already running late.’ Miriam felt like giving Helen a shake. She looked like a rabbit caught in a driver’s headlights.
Rosie purposely turned her back on Miriam and gave her full attention to Helen.
‘It was just to tell you that Gloria is back home and feeling much better. There doesn’t appear to be any serious damage. Thank goodness. And she’ll be back at work tomorrow. She told me that you kindly told her to take as much time off as she wanted, but she really does feel fine. And well enough to return to work.’
Helen continued to stare at Rosie.
‘Is that it?’ Miriam interrupted.
Rosie stopped herself from looking around at Miriam and instead kept her attention firmly on Helen.
‘And,’ Rosie lowered her voice, ‘we all wanted to say a big “thank you” for doing what you did yesterday. It was incredibly brave of you. And I think it’s more than fair to say that Gloria would not have escaped with such minor injuries had it not been for you.’
Rosie stepped forward, grabbed Helen’s hand and gave it a shake. ‘So thank you, Helen. From all of us.’
Miriam stared at her daughter. Was the girl welling up?!
‘Oh my goodness,’ Miriam’s shrill voice cut through the air, ‘is that the time? Sorry, Rosie, but I’m going to have to cut short your little speech and drag my daughter away or we’re going to have no time whatsoever for our lunch.’
And with that, Miriam slipped around Rosie and manoeuvred her daughter out of the office, practically pushing her in the direction of the stairs.
‘For God’s sake, Helen, get a grip of yourself!’ she hissed into her ear, at the same time keeping an eye out for, and her fingers crossed they would not bump into, Harold or Donald; that was the last thing she wanted.
Especially if they started talking about Helen’s bloody heroics.
When mother and daughter had made it to the main gates without seeing anyone of importance with whom they would have to converse, Miriam sagged with relief as the chauffeur who had been waiting by the side of their car quickly opened the back passenger door and they both climbed in. ‘The Grand, driver!’ she commanded, before turning her attention to Helen.
‘My dear,’ she forced herself to adopt the most compassionate voice she could muster, ‘are you all right?’ She went to hold Helen’s hand and was surprised when her daughter let her. Reining in her impatience, she spoke quietly and gently: ‘We’re going to have a lovely luncheon at the Grand—’
‘I’m not hungry,’ Helen interrupted. She’d got used to skipping lunch and the last thing she felt like doing at that moment was eating.
Miriam pursed her lips; this was going to be harder work than she had anticipated.
‘Well, we’ll just have a nice drink and a chat,’ she said, swallowing her irritation. ‘I’ve got lots I want to talk to you about.’
Helen didn’t say anything, but instead looked out the passenger window at the fog. A heavy fret had come in from the North Sea this morning and had clearly decided to settle.
Five minutes later, mother and daughter were seated in the Grand; Miriam had ordered a gin and tonic for herself, and a cup of tea and a brandy for Helen.
‘You’ve had a terrible shock,’ Miriam said after their drinks had arrived and she knew they wouldn’t be disturbed any more, ‘but we’re going to have to deal with this awfulness together.’
Miriam watched Helen as she took out her packet of Pall Malls and lit herself a cigarette. As she did so, she saw that she wasn’t the only one who was paying attention to her daughter. An officer for the Admiralty was chatting to another, lower-ranking naval officer, but his eyes kept flicking over to look at Helen.
‘You are a very beautiful and intelligent young woman, who could have her pick of men.’ Miriam put her hand over her daughter’s. ‘And I want you to enjoy that, because believe you me, it won’t last for ever.’ Miriam touched Helen’s face and gently took hold of her chin so that she was forced to look her mother in the eye.
‘But most of all I want you to leave this mess that your father has created to me. I’m going to sort it out.’
‘How? How can you undo what’s already been done?’ Helen dropped her voice as she blew out smoke. ‘You certainly can’t undo the fact that Gloria,’ Helen leant forward and whispered into her mother’s ear, ‘has had Dad’s baby!’
Helen’s words were like a slap. The news of Jack’s adultery, and worse still, his baby, was still pretty raw and shocking.
Miriam took a drink of her gin and tonic to dampen her anger at this great injustice.
‘That’s for me to worry about,’ she said, ‘not you. I’ll get it sorted. I promise you.’
Seeing her daughter now, and having witnessed her reaction to Rosie earlier on, had left Miriam in no doubt that she would indeed have to deal with this on her own.
My goodness, the girl needs hardening up! Miriam thought as she took another sip of her drink.
Jack had brought her up too soft, but this was not the time to try and rectify that. For now, what was important was for Helen to feel that she had at least one parent she could rely on, and Miriam had to make sure it was her mother, not her father.
‘And to take your mind off things,’ Miriam said, ‘I thought after work we’d go to this new boutique that’s just opened. It’s got some French-sounding name – “Maison” something or other.’ Miriam waved her hand as if dismissing the name as unimportant. ‘The girl who owns it always works there late by the sounds of it, so we can go when you finish today, if you like? According to Amelia she’s meant to be a virtuoso with a needle and thread.’
Miriam glanced at Helen’s black dress, which was looking a little slack on her.
‘I think we should go and sort you out with a nice new outfit. The girl can even design something especially for you.’
Miriam noticed Helen looked a little less glum.
‘Get you something with a bit of colour in it?’
Miriam chatted on for a while, ordering another couple of drinks before finally signalling the waiter for the bill.
‘So that’s sorted then? This new boutique after work?’ Miriam asked.
‘All right, Mother,’ Helen said, standing up and finding a very handsome man in the starched white uniform of the Admiralty moving her chair away so that she could leave unhindered. Miriam watched as the officer introduced hi
mself to Helen before offering to escort her out of the building and into the waiting car.
‘Of course,’ Miriam said, thinking that this was the kind of match she wanted for her daughter.
‘And Helen? Five o’clock. I’ll come and see you in your office. I’ve got to go and see Harold, so I’ll be in the building anyway.’ Miriam smiled. She was lying through her teeth and had no intention of seeing Harold. She did, however, need to return the documents she had borrowed before anyone noticed they were missing.
Chapter Thirty
Pickering & Sons, Bridge Street, Sunderland
‘You can’t keep these,’ Miriam told the bespectacled, grey-haired man sitting behind the large oak table, the top of which was barely visible due to piles of papers and half-opened boxes.
From where Miriam was sitting she could see that the small, frail-looking gentleman was dressed in a green and brown tweed three-piece suit that would have looked smart, even classy, had it not been for the lopsided dicky bow he was sporting and what appeared to be a gravy stain on his shirt.
‘You’ll have to copy what information you need. I need to get them back to where they belong by the end of the day,’ Miriam explained. She sounded more confident than she felt as the old man, whom she knew to be Mr Pickering, leant forward across the desk and took the six pieces of paper that were still folded in two, having just been pulled out of Miriam’s handbag.
Mr Pickering took a few moments to cast his eye over each individual document, before picking up a little brass bell to his left and ringing it.
Its tinkling was followed by the appearance of a rather plain-looking girl from the adjoining room. Miriam watched the young woman, who must have been no more than twenty years old, as she silently took the papers and left without even casting a glance in her direction.
‘So,’ Mr Pickering said, looking over the rims of his glasses at the woman who had turned up unannounced just half an hour ago – not that this was unusual in his business, most potential clients arrived on the spur of the moment. Those who made appointments, funnily enough, usually didn’t turn up.
