A Family Christmas

by Glenice Crossland

  ‘I never touched ’er. If you get me the bible I’ll swear on it.’

  ‘Then don’t marry ’er,’ Dot managed between sobs. ‘She must’ve been with somebody else.’

  ‘They say I’ve got to. They’re not going to believe me before a vicar’s daughter. If I don’t marry ’er, our James’ll lose ’is home, Jane, her job and everybody in Millington’ll hate me. I might even lose me job.’

  ‘Well, isn’t that better than losing me?’

  ‘That’s not fair, love. Robbie doesn’t know whether ee’s coming or going. The lad’ll be badly with all this upset.’

  ‘I know, Dad. I’m sorry Robbie, but I love yer and I want to marry yer.’

  ‘So do I, Dot. I hate her.’

  ‘It’s all that gypsy’s fault. She said we would be parted. I wish I’d never had me fortune told.’

  ‘Nay, me duck. She only told yer what was going to ’appen; she didn’t make it ’appen.’

  ‘But she did say we would be together one day.’ Dot cheered slightly but then began to sob again. ‘And she said you would remain faithful to me. How can you remain faithful to me when you’re married to her?’

  ‘I can and I shall; I shan’t touch her. I can’t abide to be near her, ne’r mind touch her. I love you.’

  ‘Well, like I said, it’s a right kettle o’ fish. But I can’t see what Robbie can do but marry ’er.’ Boadacea placed a cup of bitter-tasting tea in front of Robbie. ‘We all know ’ow the people of Millington look up to the vicar and Robbie’s life won’t be worth living if she spreads the word that it’s his babby, even if it isn’t.’

  ‘Well, nobody mu’n say a wrong word about yer to me, lad,’ Little Arthur said. ‘And yer’ll always be welcome here in my ’ouse.’

  ‘No!’ Boadacea shoo’d a ginger cat off the bench and sat down. ‘That wouldn’t be right. It’d not only give Robbie a bad name but our Dot as well. We can’t ’ave that. No, she’ll ’ave to get over ’im and when she ’as, maybe find another sweetheart.’

  Dot began wailing again. ‘I won’t. I’ll never get over ’im and I’ll never love anybody else. I’ll remain an old maid until Robbie and me get together again, and we shall. The gypsy said so.’

  ‘That’s all very well, but I shall miss thee, Robbie.’ Little Arthur looked near to tears himself.

  ‘And I shall miss coming to the farm. It’s been like home to me.’

  ‘Well then, tha must continue to come if tha likes.’

  ‘No, thanks, Mr Greenwood, but Mrs Greenwood’s right. It wouldn’t be fair to Dot and I shouldn’t be able to bear it, loving her as I do.’

  ‘Oh, bloody ’ell, it can’t be right loving one lass and marrying another. There must be summat we can do.’

  ‘Aye, but what?’ Robbie looked hopefully at Little Arthur, but he couldn’t come up with an answer. Robbie stood up. ‘I’d better go. I’ve explained now and that’s what I came for. I expect I’ll see yer in church, Dot. And I shall remain faithful, even if you fall for someone else, which I expect you will, what with you being so beautiful. There’s one thing for sure: I shall never in a million years fall for Prudence Goodman.’ Robbie had never felt so sad since his parents died, and Dot felt just as bad.

  At John’s suggestion, to cheer Robbie up a bit, Will and Robbie had taken Bernard out to see the ducks on the reservoir. Lucy had just finished washing up the pots and pans after a delicious Sunday dinner when Mary and Jacob arrived. Mary was all dressed up and Lucy thought it must be nice to have nothing to do except don yourself up in Sunday best and go out for the afternoon. Then she looked at little Rosie, sleeping peacefully in her pram and the slight envy she had felt changed to pity for her sister.

  ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’ John asked, knowing Lucy had worked hard all morning and ought to be putting her feet up.

  ‘Yes please.’ Lucy laid out the cups and saucers. ‘This is a nice surprise, Mary.’

  ‘Aye well, I’ll not beat about the bush; we’ve come to offer our help.’

  ‘Help? I didn’t know we were in need of any help.’

  ‘We’ve come to tell you we’ve decided to adopt Bernard.’

  John dropped a spoon into the sink with a clatter. ‘What?’

  ‘Well, with our Lucy expecting another, you’ll have enough on without Evelyn’s boy. So we shall help out by taking him off your hands.’

  ‘Oh no. You’re not having Bernard. He’s mine, and if I have a dozen more, he’ll still be mine.’ Lucy’s face had turned crimson.

  ‘I must say that’s a selfish attitude to take, throwing kindness back in our faces.’ Mary scowled at Lucy.

  ‘Kindness? Oh I don’t think you’d be taking him out of kindness. You just want a child, Mary. And I’m sorry you haven’t got one yet, but you can’t have ours.’

  ‘Yours? But he isn’t yours. Our Rosie’s yours, and the one you’re carrying. It’ll be a hard enough struggle to keep them and we could give him so much more.’

  Jacob looked uncomfortable, shuffling from one foot to the other. He hadn’t thought this a good idea, but when Mary got a bee in her bonnet there was no holding her. John felt sorry for him and handed him a cup of tea. ‘He’s part of our family, Mary,’ he said. ‘Evelyn handed him into Lucy’s care. We can’t give him away just because we’re having another.’

  ‘You mean you won’t.’

  Jacob spoke for the first time. ‘I think you should let the matter drop, Mary. Lucy and John are obviously not interested in your offer.’

  ‘I won’t let it drop. Bernard would want for nothing as our son. What can they give him with one in the pram and another on the way? And I don’t doubt there’ll be another next year and the year after that.’

  ‘Mary.’ Jacob’s hand landed on the table with a bang, causing the cups to rattle in their saucers. ‘You’ve said enough.’

  Mary suddenly burst into tears. ‘You say something then.’

  ‘I think you’ve said enough for both of us and you should apologise.’

  ‘What for? Offering help? Never.’

  Lucy felt immense pity for her sister, and for Jacob. ‘I don’t need an apology. It was kind of you to offer. Maybe you would be able to give a child more things than we can, but we have enough for his needs, and more importantly he’ll have love. He’ll also have Rosie, whom he already adores. You can’t take him away from her, Mary. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to.’

  Mary was weeping as though her heart would break. ‘We could adopt him properly.’

  ‘No, we shall adopt him. You can apply to adopt another child, but not Bernard. Come on Mary, drink your tea.’

  Mary rose to her feet. ‘Come on, Jacob. We’ve made our offer and it’s been refused. You can’t help some people.’ When she reached the door Mary turned, a look of pure hatred on her face. ‘And don’t come to me for help in the future, when you’re bound to need it.’ Then she flounced out with Jacob following behind, glancing helplessly back at John.

  ‘Oh John, I feel so sorry for her. Our Mary’s turning all bitter. She never used to be like that.’

  ‘No,’ John agreed. He shuddered as he remembered the look of venom in the eyes of his sister-in-law. He wouldn’t put it past her to try and make trouble over little Bernard. John wouldn’t rest now until the boy was legally adopted, and there were still some months to go before he could officially become theirs. Perhaps it wasn’t too early to set the wheels in motion, though. He would begin making enquiries.

  Dot Greenwood saw Prudence place her hand possessively over Robbie’s and watched him stiffen and draw away from her. Dot joined the congregation as they uttered the words of the creed, wondering if she would ever believe in the words ‘God the Father’ again. Even her respect for Reverend Goodman had wavered as she considered the pressure he had placed on Robbie to marry his daughter. Surely he should have questioned Prudence in order to find out the father of the child. Dot struggled through the final hymn and joined the others as they shuffled their way out into
the churchyard. Instead of hanging round to chat to her friends she hurried out of the lychgate and set off for home, unable to cope with their sympathetic glances. Besides, if Robbie Grey so much as looked at her she thought she might burst into tears. If she had but known, Robbie Grey felt exactly the same.

  By contrast, Prudence was making sure everyone saw her clinging to Robbie’s arm. The excitement of the coming wedding added a glow to the girl and she actually looked pretty dressed in her Sunday best. No one apart from the family knew of Prudence’s pregnant condition, all of them being asked to keep silent until after the marriage. Only the friends of Robbie and Dot found it hard to believe that Robbie would leave Dot in favour of the vicar’s daughter. They all knew it had been a case of love at first sight for the couple and couldn’t understand what had happened to split them up.

  Because none of them liked Prudence, most of the group tended to take the side of Dot, which only made Robbie even more miserable. His only consolation was that for now he still had Lucy, John and Will to go home to each night and Mr Grundy’s company during the day. He didn’t dare to think what it would be like returning to Prudence every evening and just hoped something – anything – would happen to prevent the sham of the wedding from taking place. He walked Prudence back to the vicarage, as was expected of him now she was considered his fiancée.

  ‘Aren’t you coming in for supper?’ Prudence asked.

  ‘No, I’ve to be up early in the morning. I’ll be getting home.’

  ‘Oh, Robbie, why don’t you move back here? After all, this will be your home when we’re married.’

  ‘Yes I know, but we’re not married yet.’ Robbie turned to go.

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ Prudence pulled at his sleeve and turned him towards her, throwing her arms round his neck. Robbie cringed as she kissed him on the lips.

  ‘Goodnight, Prudence.’ Robbie hurried away, ignoring the glint of anger in her eyes. She might be succeeding in getting him to the altar, but getting him to love and desire her would be a different matter. In fact it would never happen. His heart already belonged to Dot Greenwood, with or without a wedding ring.

  Robbie mumbled his vows and saw Prudence sigh with relief as he placed the gold ring on her finger. The small congregation thought what a handsome couple they made, and as most of them – with the exception of Robbie’s family – were friends or relatives of Herbert and Louisa, none of them had any inkling that the marriage might be one of convenience. Robbie had thought, right up to the last minute, that something would happen to stop the wedding. That their James would intervene and put a stop to the proceedings. That Herbert Goodman would believe him and realise the marriage was a mistake, but for all Robbie had protested nobody had called a halt. Now it was too late and whilst all around him people smiled and offered congratulations, Prudence beamed and Robbie Grey sank deeper and deeper into despair.

  A buffet had been set out at the vicarage and both John and James were relieved when they could finally leave. The pain in Robbie’s eyes haunted Lucy as they climbed the hill with their two weary children. Lucy’s feet were beginning to swell in her high-heeled shoes and she couldn’t help envy Prudence, who despite being pregnant was still as slim as ever. ‘Prudence doesn’t look pregnant,’ she commented as they reached Top Row, ‘and here’s me feeling all fat and frumpy.’

  John glanced lovingly at his wife. ‘You’re imagining things. You’re still as slim as ever. In fact that brother of Herbert’s couldn’t take his eyes off you.’

  Lucy blushed. ‘Yes, I noticed. In fact I had to dodge him once or twice; he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.’

  John laughed. ‘Well what’s all that about you feeling frumpy then?’

  Lucy shrugged. ‘I was just comparing myself to Prudence, I suppose.’

  ‘Hmm, funny you should mention that. She doesn’t look very pregnant to me.’ John frowned as a terrible thought came to him. What if Prudence had tricked his brother into marriage? He cast the thought away; it was something that didn’t bear thinking about. Yet he wouldn’t put it past Prudence Goodman – he wouldn’t put it past her at all. The tragedy of it was that she wasn’t a Goodman any longer; she was a Grey.

  Robbie thought Prudence was acting like a whore. She had undressed down to her underwear and was flaunting herself in panties, stockings and suspenders, all of them white lace. On Dot they would have filled him with desire, but on Prudence they didn’t look attractive at all. He took off his clothes, leaving on his underpants and got into bed, ashamed to be sharing it with a woman he didn’t even like. Prudence climbed in beside him and pressed her body against his. He felt a stirring deep within him and turned away. With his back to her he drew his knees up in an effort to hide his erection.

  ‘Oh, Robbie,’ Prudence whispered, ‘come on, you know you want to make love to me. I want to touch you and I want you to touch me. It’s our wedding night and we might as well try and make it work. I need you so much; that’s the only reason I wanted to marry you. Turn this way and feel my body. It’s so much more beautiful than Dot Greenwood’s.’

  Robbie threw back the bedclothes and jumped out of bed. Bending close to her he almost spat out the words, ‘Don’t you ever mention Dot’s name to me. You’re not fit to speak her name. And just get this straight: we may be married but I shall never ever touch your body. You disgust me. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘Oh, come on. I know I’ve made you cross but now we’re married, think of the fun we can have. It will work.’

  ‘It will never work in a million years. Marriage is about love, trust and friendship and I don’t feel any of those things for you. I don’t even want to have sex with you. You’re a liar and a cheat. I’ve given you my name but that’s the only part of me you will ever own. Do you understand that?’

  Prudence nodded, shocked at the venom being directed towards her. She had thought Robbie would be easy to manipulate. He was obviously stronger willed than she had imagined. She turned away from him and lay rigidly on the edge of the bed. It would be hard to win him over to her way of thinking, but she wouldn’t give in; she was used to having her own way and she wasn’t intending to change for the likes of someone like Robbie Grey.

  Will had found a potato in the shape of a man’s private parts and had hung it over the stall, knowing the women of Cragstone liked a bit of a laugh. The potato had become the talking point of the day.

  ‘Eeh, Will lad. That reminds me of my owd man, and it’s same colour.’ The potato was a Red King but was more purple than red.

  ‘Aye.’ Another woman joined in the fun. ‘It’s like my owd man’s an’ all. All balls and nowt where it matters.’

  ‘I expect that’d be more in your line, Polly.’ The first woman picked up a carrot.

  ‘Ger away, now this is more like.’ Polly grabbed a foot-long leek and held it up for all the queue to see.

  Will never uttered a word. He was happy to have given his customers a bit of a laugh, but he was careful never to cause offence. He couldn’t help laughing, however, when a woman picked up a couple of tomatoes and plucked a tiny grape off a bunch. ‘Now look ’ere,’ she said. ‘This is more like what my owd man’s got to offer and that’s on a good night. On a bad one I can’t find it at all.’ The queue was in an uproar.

  ‘I’ll bet young Will ’ere could show us summat to get excited about. Come on now, Will, is this more like yours?’ A large carrot was plucked off the stall and held aloft. By this time Will’s cheeks were scarlet.

  ‘Now that’d be telling,’ he laughed.

  ‘Shall we find out, ladies?’ One of the women twinkled. ‘Shall we ’old ’im down and find out?’

  Will’s face was a picture. He wouldn’t put it past this lot to do what they were threatening. The woman laughed and held open her shopping bag. ‘Eeh, your face, lad. Come on, weigh me a shilling’s worth of taties, and I’ll ’ave that one if yer don’t mind. I’ll give my owd man a bit of a laugh wi’ that, and yer never know,
it might ger ’im going if I’m lucky.’

  Will weighed the crude-looking vegetable in with the rest and emptied them in her bag. A bit of fun was all very well but he’d better be careful in future with this lot. It had certainly been good for trade though; when he cashed up at the end of the day he found the takings were the best yet. He would have to think up something else to get that lot laughing. It seemed the more they laughed, the more they spent. They were a right lot the Cragstone women; they seemed to think of nothing but sex. It must be the fresh air from the moors. He wished he could find himself a Cragstone girl. Then he thought of Robbie Grey and how miserable he looked since he’d married Prudence. Perhaps he was better off as he was. Still, it would be nice to try it once and see what it was like. He could have asked Robbie, but he didn’t see much of him these days. He would just have to wait until the right girl came along, although if it made him as miserable as it seemed to have made Robbie, he might not bother.

  Mrs Cooper waited until the tea had brewed before opening the letter from Nellie. The anticipation of wondering what the letter contained was in her opinion as good as reading it. Lily poured the tea as soon as it looked thick enough for the housekeeper’s taste, wanting to hurry Mrs Cooper along but knowing she would have to wait. Finally, when the tea was milked and sugared the letter was opened.

  ‘Eeh, lass. Theer’s another letter in ’ere with yer mother’s name on it. I wonder what that is all about.’

  Lily looked at the sealed envelope and read her mam’s name. ‘Can I open it?’

  ‘What? Why yer certainly can’t. Yer don’t go round opening other folks’s private letters.’

  ‘Ooh! But Mrs Cooper, what can she want to write to me mam about? She’s never done it before. She doesn’t even know ’er.’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s nowt to do wi’ me any road.’ But the housekeeper thought she could guess. From the sound of it the guest house was doing right well and it wouldn’t surprise her if Nellie was looking for help. She wouldn’t get better than Lily. Oh, but what would she do without the lass? Eeh, she was going to be lost if Lily went gadding off to Blackpool. Still, it might be nowt to do with Lily leaving, and even if it was, her mam might not let her go. She knew she was being selfish by hoping to keep Lily here – there wasn’t much for the lass to look forward to up here at the back of beyond. No, if the letter contained what she thought it did, she would wish Lily well.