A Family Christmas

by Glenice Crossland

  ‘Come on then, let’s see what Nellie has to say.’

  ‘Can I fetch Larry in for ’is tea? He likes to hear what Nellie ’as to say.’

  ‘Goo on then, and hurry up or it’ll ’ave gone cold and we’ll ’ave to mash some more.’

  By the time Lily had found Larry, Mrs Cooper knew her fears were about to be realised. Nellie had explained to the housekeeper that she couldn’t find a waitress with half the wits about her that Lily had, so she’d decided to offer the girl a job. So that was what the enclosed letter was about. She decided not to mention that bit of news to Lily; the lass would be too disappointed if her parents refused permission. Besides, there would be nowt done for the rest of the day if Lily got herself all worked up. Eeh, but she was going to miss her; she was getting too old to be training new folks all the time. Especially young folks of today who thought they knew it all. Times were changing and not all the changes were for the better in her opinion. Still, she supposed Lily was right when she kept telling her she was old-fashioned. ‘Come on, get it down yer before it’s all stewed; theer’s nowt worse than stewed tea.’

  Lily was so busy informing Larry about the letter to her mam she wouldn’t have noticed what she was drinking, and neither the housekeeper nor Lily noticed that Larry had almost seen off the whole of a date and walnut cake.

  Chapter Eighteen

  PRUDENCE KNEW SHE couldn’t pretend any longer. She would have to lose the baby. She waited until her monthly bleeding began and put on the act of her life. Seemingly doubled up with pain, she cried out that something had happened. Of course she played the innocent and never mentioned miscarriage, simply saying she was bleeding and in pain. Louisa, who had grown accustomed to becoming a grandmother once the couple were married, unfortunately didn’t act according to her daughter’s plan. Instead of keeping the whole thing quiet and being relieved to be free of the shame of it, she hurried for Dr Sellars in an effort to save the baby.

  When the doctor entered the room Prudence scowled at her mother, ‘I don’t think I was pregnant anyway,’ she muttered. ‘I just missed a few periods, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, we shall soon see.’ Dr Sellars indicated for Louisa to leave the room. ‘I must examine you anyway in order to find out what the trouble is.’ When the doctor approached her Prudence drew the eiderdown tightly around her. ‘No, there’s no point.’

  ‘Oh I think there is. If you’ve missed a few periods there must be a reason why. Either there’s something else wrong or you’re pregnant and may be losing your child.’

  ‘I can’t be pregnant.’

  Dr Sellars removed the bedding from over her patient and gently examined her. When she had finished she told Prudence to cover herself.

  ‘Prudence, why did you say you were having a baby?’

  The girl blushed and couldn’t meet the doctor’s eye. ‘I didn’t. They just assumed I was.’

  ‘But you didn’t deny it?’

  Prudence shook her head.

  ‘Despite the fact that you’re still a virgin?’

  Prudence began to cry. ‘That’s not my fault; he won’t come near me. I hate him.’

  Dr Sellars didn’t know what to make of the situation and knew the girl’s mother was waiting for an explanation.

  Robbie saw the doctor’s car at the gate and hurried towards the house just as the doctor came downstairs.

  ‘Mr Grey?’ The doctor held out her hand to him.

  ‘Yes, what’s wrong? Is it Prudence?’ He despised his wife, but all the same he didn’t wish her any harm.

  ‘She’s losing the child,’ Louisa told him and came to comfort Robbie.

  ‘No, she isn’t.’ The doctor was embarrassed at what she was about to say. ‘Prudence has never been pregnant. In fact she is still intact. In other words, Prudence has never had intercourse.’ She looked questioningly at Robbie.

  ‘What?’ Louisa searched her son-in-law’s face for an explanation. ‘Robert?’

  ‘I told you I hadn’t touched ’er, but nobody believed me, nobody except our John and Lucy. And …’ He was about to add and the Greenwoods, but thought it would be inappropriate.

  ‘Do you mean to tell me she accused you of making her pregnant?’ asked Dr Sellars.

  ‘Yes, yes she did.’

  ‘Oh, but that wasn’t a fair thing to do. I can vouch for the fact that Prudence has never had intercourse. In fact she has admitted that her husband has never touched her.’ Dr Sellars smiled at Louisa. ‘The good news is that your daughter is healthy. There is nothing wrong with her except a perfectly normal period.’ The doctor picked up her bag and prepared to leave. ‘Congratulations on your marriage, Mr Grey. Nice to have met you.’ Robbie didn’t know whether the doctor was being sarcastic in the circumstances, but he thanked the doctor.

  Louisa’s face was the colour of parchment after seeing the doctor out. ‘Oh Robert, what can I say except I’m sorry?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s too late to say anything. I’m stuck in a marriage I never wanted. I don’t love Prudence. I never did. It’s all a sham. Just to please your daughter and prevent our James from losing his home.’

  ‘Robert, Herbert would never have taken their home away. Jane’s doing a marvellous job; the school has never been cleaner.’

  ‘Wouldn’t he? We shall see, because I can’t stay here. Not now you all know I was telling the truth. I can’t live with Prudence’s lies any longer.’

  ‘No! No, I can understand that. I’m so sorry. I did doubt what she accused you of but Herbert was so insistent. He thinks our daughter can do no wrong.’

  ‘Now he’ll know different. Louisa, I think she needs help. Well, I’ll go get my things.’

  He went to the wardrobe and removed his shirts and suit from their hangers, then he reached up and lifted down the suitcase.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Prudence snapped.

  ‘I’m leaving.’

  ‘You can’t. What will people say?’

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t care.’ He opened a drawer, took out his underwear and threw it into the case.

  ‘But we can start afresh now it’s all out in the open.’

  ‘You expect me to start afresh with a liar and a cheat?’

  ‘Oh, Robbie, you can’t walk out on me; you’ll shame my parents.’

  ‘No. You’ll shame your parents, and I’m sorry about that, but perhaps now your father’ll believe me.’

  ‘Please don’t tell him. We can just say I’ve lost the baby.’

  Robbie slammed the lid of the case shut. ‘You never stop, do you? More lies. Do you think a marriage can survive what you’ve done?’ He lowered his voice. ‘You’re sick, Prudence. You need help. I’m surprised Dr Sellars didn’t suggest you seek some.’

  Prudence reached out and picked up the alarm clock Will had bought them, and threw it with all her strength in Robbie’s direction.

  Fortunately he saw it coming and moved out of its way so that it hit the mirror on the dressing table, shattering the glass, just as Prudence had shattered Robbie’s dreams. He picked up the case and left the room, the alarm ringing out behind him.

  Robbie had been back at Lucy’s for a week. He had been welcomed back without question by his brother. John knew better than to ask for an explanation and it was a few days before the story emerged. Lucy was shocked that the vicar’s daughter could have acted so despicably and felt sympathy for the Goodmans. Rumours soon spread about the separation, the cruellest being that Robbie had left his wife because she had suffered a miscarriage. Another being nearer the truth: that Prudence had suffered a brainstorm and tried to kill her husband. Apart from Dr Sellars only the Goodmans and the Greys knew the truth, and for the vicar’s sake they vowed to keep it that way. The following Sunday the church was full to capacity, but any of the congregation there out of curiosity were disappointed, as the only thing out of the ordinary was Prudence’s absence. By the end of evening service the rumour had been altered so that Prudence had left her husband and run
off with someone she had met at the library. As it happened, Prudence had been sent away to stay with her aunt in Liverpool. Robbie didn’t know and he certainly didn’t care. He held his head high and sang with a lighter heart than he had felt for weeks. People watched with gaping mouths as Robbie paused at the lychgate after the service, to be greeted by the vicar and exchange pleasantries with Louisa. Nobody knew what to make of the situation, least of all Dot Greenwood.

  Lucy was not only delighted to have Robbie back in the fold but also relieved to have heard nothing more concerning Mary’s wish to adopt Bernard. If she had but known, it was all down to Jacob, who had now made it clear that he would never consider the adoption of Evelyn’s child. He was suffering for his wilfulness as Mary blamed her husband for refusing to cooperate. Lucy was right: her sister had turned bitter and Mary’s mood was reflected in the clothes she wore as well as her attitude. The net curtains were still immaculate, the aspidistra still watered, the cellar steps still scrubbed and donkeys-toned and the house bottomed once a week as usual. But Mary rarely smiled, never stood at her door chatting with the neighbours and had let herself go. She had taken to covering her hair with a mob-cap in the way of a much older woman. Jacob wondered what had happened to the lovely woman he had married and begged her to cheer up and wear the pretty clothes that hung amongst the lavender bags in the wardrobe.

  ‘What does a barren woman want to look glamorous for?’ Mary would sigh and either take up her embroidery or bury her head in a book. In the end Jacob went to Lucy for advice, judging her to be more compassionate than Jane. ‘I don’t know how to handle her, Lucy. She’s blaming me for refusing to adopt your little lad.’

  ‘Well, I thank you for that, Jacob. I’ll come and talk to her though I don’t see as I can help. You must make enquiries about adopting, Jacob. But not Bernard,’ she added worriedly.

  ‘She won’t even discuss it. She’s so withdrawn I can’t seem to communicate anymore. And I swear she’s as miserable as your mother used to be.’ Jacob blushed as he realised what he had said. ‘I’m sorry, lass.’

  ‘It’s all right. She did remind me of my mother on her last visit. Oh, why can’t she become pregnant?’

  ‘Aye, but why can’t she be satisfied with what we’ve got? After all, Jane isn’t always hankering after a child.’

  Lucy smiled. ‘Our Jane has a different outlook altogether. If the truth be known she wouldn’t want anyone intruding in her neatly organised life. Not even a baby. No! She’s quite satisfied with being able to spoil my two then go back home to her nice, comfortable life with James. Besides, she’s her job to occupy her days. She finds all the satisfaction she needs by keeping the school up to standard. And the children adore her. They bring her flowers, draw her pictures, lots of little things they do out of affection for her. No, our Jane’s perfectly happy with the present carry on. Besides, she and James wouldn’t be able to go gallivanting every weekend. He’s talking about buying a motorbike now; I heard him discussing it with our Ben. Then we shan’t see them for dust.’ Lucy laughed and she even noticed a smile appear on Jacob’s worried face.

  ‘So you’ll come and see her then?’ he appealed.

  ‘Yes I will, but I might not be welcome. I’ll do my best, Jacob. She’s my sister and I hate this awkwardness between us.’

  ‘Aye. But it isn’t your fault.’

  Lucy frowned. ‘No, but the trouble is our Mary thinks it is.’ Lucy sighed. ‘She wanted Bernard and I stood in her way.’

  Jacob raised his trilby to his sister-in-law and went on his way. Lucy watched him leave and thought it sad that Jacob’s jaunty way of walking had disappeared; his shoulders were rounded and his walk had slowed, as if he didn’t really want to go home. And who could blame him, with his wife in her present frame of mind?

  * * *

  ‘Ooh, Mrs Cooper, it’ll be awful leaving you.’ The tears trailed down Lily’s face at the thought of not seeing her beloved housekeeper.

  ‘Now stop that. Oh you are a silly Lily. Don’t yer see that you’ll never get another opportunity to mek summat of yerself and see a bit of life? Why, yer’ll be able to go dancing on the pier or in’t tower.’ Lily thought Mrs Cooper looked sad as she mentioned the tower.

  ‘I can’t dance.’ Lily’s eyes were still brimming with tears, but this time from the onions Mr Brown had delivered that morning and would soon be part of a hot pot.

  ‘Well, it’ll not be long before yer can. Yer’ll ’ave all’t lads in Blackpool running after a pretty lass like you. But yer must behave yerself. They’ll be out for a bit of hanky-panky so you just mek sure they don’t get any. It’s the air, yer see. Finest air in England, and it’s got the finest promenade.’

  ‘Has it really? Finest prom in England?’

  Mrs Cooper thought she might have exaggerated a bit. ‘Well, I can’t say I’ve seen many. Only Whitby. Now I’ve got to admit that that’s a prettier place altogether, what with its harbour and abbey, but as for’t promenade, aye I reckon Blackpool’s best in England.’

  ‘Yer will be all right won’t yer? When I’ve gone I mean.’

  ‘Course I shall. New cook’s shaping up nicely even if she isn’t Nellie, and I shall ’ave your Molly to shout at, shan’t I?’

  Lily giggled. ‘Ooh I am glad me dad said she could come and work ’ere. If ee hadn’t put ’is foot down me mam’d never ’ave let ’er.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s good for a young lass stuck at ’ome all day.’

  ‘I know, but me mam says she needs ’er to ’elp with all’t housework and to look after the little ones. She says she gets backache doing all’t work ’erself.’ Lily giggled. ‘Me dad says the only thing wrong wi’ me mam is idleitis.’

  ‘There’s only one thing.’ Mrs Cooper frowned. ‘I shall ’ave to keep me eye on your Molly and Larry. What with her fancying ’im and ’im fancying her, I shall need eyes in’t back of me ’ead.’

  ‘Ooh, I think our Molly’ll behave ’erself. Me dad warned ’er that if she don’t she’ll ’ave to go back ’ome again, and she won’t want that.’

  ‘Fair enough. Even so, I’d better give Larry a warning an’ all.’

  ‘What if I can’t do it right?’ Lily looked about to burst into tears again.

  ‘Can’t do what right?’

  ‘Serving all them people and ’elping wi’ the cooking and everything.’

  ‘Why, yer daft haporth. Yer’ve been doing all that for the past year or two.’

  ‘I know, but people in Blackpool might be posher.’

  ‘Will they heck as like. Now look ’ere. Nellie and Mr Johnson know ’ow capable you are – that’s providing yer don’t burst into tears every time anybody says owt to yer. Now that’s one habit yer’ll ’ave to grow out of. Yer can’t be dripping tears into’t soup all’t time, now can yer?’

  Lily laughed, then she found something else to worry about: ‘Ooh, Nellie says I shall be taking the place of Mr Johnson’s mother. I shall never be able to do all them lovely flower thingies, like she did for’t wedding.’

  ‘Flower arrangements, yer mean. Course yer will. They’ll not be wanting great fancy arrangements like them, not every day. Just a few flowers on each table and in each bedroom. I expect Nellie’ll be doing them in’t lounge. Any road up, she’ll teach yer all that sort of thing. She wouldn’t ’ave sent for yer if she didn’t think yer were capable. And stop getting into such a tiswas, yer’ll be meeting yerself coming back one o’ these days.’

  ‘Ooh, Mrs Cooper, you always say summat to cheer me up, even when I’m scared. I don’t know what I shall do wi’out yer.’

  ‘Yer’ll manage.’ It’s me who’ll be lost, the housekeeper thought. She sighed as she filled in the week’s outgoings in the ledger. Oh well, at least she’d have young Molly. Besides, the new cook was shaping up right nicely; in fact she was growing quite fond of her.

  By December, Lucy’s stomach felt as big as a sack of potatoes. Her legs continued to swell and John begged her to rest in
the afternoon.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she told him. ‘I’ve never felt better.’ Actually she did put her feet up for an hour every day when Mrs Slater took charge of Bernard and Rosie. Then the two women would enjoy a chat and a cup of tea together as they watched Bernard push the brightly painted wheelbarrow Robbie had made for him up the yard and back again, filling it with stones along the way. ‘Just look at them cheeks,’ Mrs Slater said. Bernard’s cheeks were as red as the gloves and helmet Lucy had knitted over the past week. ‘Ee looks the picture of ’ealth does that little lad.’

  ‘Evelyn would have been so proud of him,’ Lucy sighed.

  ‘Oh well, soon be Christmas.’ Enid changed the subject as she dipped a digestive in her tea.

  ‘Yes.’ Lucy was looking forward to the festivities. ‘I should have enough in the Christmas club to get him and Rosie a few presents and something for our Will and Robbie.’

  ‘Has he heard owt yet from that no-good wife of ’is?’

  ‘Not a word. Something’ll have to be done, though I’ve no idea what. He can’t go on wasting his life in this way. He’s so wrapped up in his work, which I suppose is a good thing as it’s taking his mind off the problem, but it needs solving.’

  ‘Aye, a young man like ’im should be on top of’t world, whereas Robbie’s world is neither one thing or another. What good’s a wife who’s gone absent?’

  ‘In my opinion she’s better absent.’

  ‘Well, that’s as may be, but whilst ee’s stuck with her he can’t be with the lass ee loves.’

  ‘Namely, Dot Greenwood.’

  ‘Aye. According to our Ernest Robbie worships the lass. Eeh, it’s wicked what that lass ’as done to ’im.’

  Much as Lucy trusted Mrs Slater she sometimes wished she’d never revealed the truth to her about Robbie’s marriage; she tended to go on a bit once she got started and it wasn’t something Lucy cared to gossip about. ‘I’ve ordered a couple of fowls from Greenwood’s farm for Christmas.’