A Family Christmas

by Glenice Crossland

  Andrew Grey was born on the seventh of September, a twelve-pound baby who caused Lucy three days of pain and a hell of a lot of stitches. Dr Sellars was worried for a time, but Lucy soon recovered from her ordeal and everyone was full of admiration for their fine son.

  ‘Now we’ve got Peter, Andrew, James and John in the family,’ Lucy told Mary, who had turned up once again to take charge.

  ‘All the saints,’ Mary remarked.

  ‘And me, don’t forget Bernard,’ the little boy reminded them.

  ‘No, we won’t forget you. You’re a nice cuddly Saint Bernard,’ Lucy laughed.

  ‘And don’t forget my sisters.’ Bernard idolised Rosie and Violet and everything had to be fair in order to keep him happy. Lucy hugged him close and wondered how she would cope if the adoption was refused. She changed her position so that Bernard had room to climb on the bed and winced at the soreness, causing Mary to warn the boy to sit still because his mam wasn’t very well.

  ‘That’s because baby Andrew came out of her tummy and it had to be stitched up like in the story about the wolf.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Nobody, I just guessed because your tummy was fat and now it’s all empty.’

  Mary tutted. ‘He’s been here before has this one.’

  Lucy nodded and smiled, but she wondered how long it would be before he began asking questions about what happened to Evelyn and who his real father was. When he looked at the picture of Evelyn these days he called her his old mam, the one before his new one. Lucy just prayed that by that time Bernard wouldn’t be with mam number three.

  * * *

  ‘Of course I don’t want the money. Both our Lucy and me told you the money was yours. It’s in your name, Will. In fact I’d forgotten all about it. You do whatever you like with it.’ Jane frowned. ‘It’s a big step to take, though. Why don’t you ask our Ben what he thinks? Or Jacob? He’s the one to advise you about financial matters.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right. I’ll ask Jacob. What do you think, though?’

  ‘I think it’s a marvellous idea, so long as you don’t land yourself in debt.’

  ‘I shan’t; that wouldn’t be fair on Betty, but the money’s just stuck there doing nothing. Think of the peace of mind it would give our Lucy and John. I’ll never be able to repay them for keeping me out of the pit, and never once has she complained about all the washing and cooking she’s done for me over the years, so if I do this for ’em it’ll make me feel good. Besides, some of the money should be hers by rights.’

  ‘Then do it, but talk to Jacob first. I’m sure we shall all be relieved to know our Lucy and John have security for the future. With all their lot they’re going to need it.’

  Will beamed at his sister. ‘Don’t tell her yet, though. I want it to be a surprise if I’m successful.’

  ‘All right, but don’t get too excited. Don’t forget there’ll be others with more money than you have.’

  Will nodded and went off to Mary’s, hoping Jacob would be home by now. The precious bank book was secure in his jacket pocket.

  The tap room at the Golden Eagle was packed and it was difficult to breathe in an atmosphere thick with smoke. Will’s heart sank at the sight of the crowded room. ‘We won’t stand a chance, Jacob.’

  ‘Oh stop worrying. Auctions always attract the crowds, mostly just here for the beer, or out of curiosity. Now just remember, don’t bid until I say so. And for goodness’ sake sit still, or you’ll have placed a bid inadvertently.’

  Beside him, Ernest was trembling; he had never felt so nervous. He could feel the sweat dripping off his hair. It was the scariest thing he had ever considered doing in his life. When Will had told him of his plan to buy the house for Lucy he had thought it a crazy idea, but when Will told him about the money in the bank it hadn’t sounded so crazy after all. Then when he had realised their house was the other one to be sold he had put the suggestion to his father that Ernest might make an offer, expecting his father to ridicule his plan. Instead Mr Slater had worked out how much he could chip in, how much Ernie had to spare and had made enquiries about a loan. ‘It’d be a sound investment for’t future, Ernest. And it’d set me mind at rest knowing you’d ’ave a roof over yer head when me and yer mother’re pushing up daisies.’

  ‘No, Dad. I’m buying it for you and me mam. If I shift out it’ll be yours.’

  ‘Aye but yours, one day. And if yer do buy it it’ll be in your name or none at all.’ Ernest wished now he had never suggested it.

  ‘Right, it’s coming up next,’ Jacob whispered. ‘Ours first.’ Jacob waited, satisfied that there were only a couple of bidders. It was what he had expected. Mid-terraced houses weren’t expected to attract the property owners, especially with sitting tenants. The two men bid against each other and then Will nearly fell off the stool when Jacob nudged him. Will raised his arm. He had no idea what he was bidding – the auctioneer was going too fast for him and he couldn’t make out a word of what he was saying. He heard a cough from one bidder and saw the other nod his head. Jacob nudged him again and he raised his arm. The first bidder shook his head and the nodder made no response.

  ‘Going once. Going twice.’ The auctioneer thumped the table with such force Ernest thought he might suffer a heart attack.

  ‘Sold to the gentleman on the right.’

  Jacob thumped Will on the back. ‘Congratulations. You’ve just bought your sister a house.’ He heard the voices abate and told them to shush. It was Ernest’s house coming up next. Will wanted to ask how much he’d paid for the property, but Jacob was concentrating now on the next lot.

  * * *

  ‘Well,’ Jacob grinned, ‘are yer going to buy me a pint after all that?’

  ‘I’ll buy yer a half a dozen,’ Ernie laughed. ‘Bye, but we’ve got a bargain there, Will.’

  Will had never in his life felt so elated. He would still have something left in his account even after the expenses. He’d been surprised at the interest accumulated over the years. He thought he would leave that in the bank in case Jane wanted anything; after all, he was earning a good wage these days.

  Ernest said that by the time he had paid the deposit the loan repayments would be no more than they would have been paying in rent. To tell the truth, Ernest didn’t understand anything about mortgages – in fact he had never even heard of one until he and his father had made an appointment with the bank manager. Ernest actually felt a bit put out because he’d got his house for ten pounds less than Will. He couldn’t understand why, when the houses were identical. Jacob laughed and said he should be thankful. Actually Jacob thought that one of the bidders had wanted both houses and had lost interest after the first one was sold for more than he was prepared to pay. All good news for Ernest.

  ‘So when are you going to break the news to Lucy?’

  ‘Now. But first it’s my round, so let’s have another and then I’m off.’

  Jacob grinned. Will was a character and no mistake. Who else would have considered buying a house with money he could have spent on frivolities? He was proud to have Will for a brother-in-law and by what he had seen of his fiancée, Betty Hague was every bit as generous-natured. She would be a welcome addition to the family.

  The house deeds had been handed over to John and Lucy with advice from the solicitor that joint ownership was wiser. Ernest Slater had been given a little green Building Society payment book with instructions to pay at the old chapel on the last Friday of each month. Ernest was not only proud to be a house owner, but also relieved not to be living in a tied house anymore. He could now leave the coal mining job if he wished. Lucy had argued that Will should never have spent his nest egg on her and John, but there had been tears in her eyes as she kissed her brother and thanked him, especially when Will said, ‘You’ve been like a mother to me, Lucy. It’s the least I can do.’ John had told him that the door would always be open to Will and his family and Will had laughed.

  ‘And where would we sleep? The
way you and our Lucy are carrying on you’ll need a tent in the garden in a few years’ time.’

  Lucy had blushed and hugged her brother and Will had turned all serious and said, ‘But I’ll tell you this, Lucy: I’d rather bring my kids up in this house than any other in Millington, even if we had to sleep in the cellar. It’s a house with love in it and that’s what makes it a home.’

  ‘Ah, Will, that’s a lovely thing to say.’

  ‘It’s true. Just look around at your lot. I’ve seen a lot of families when I was out on my rounds but not one as contented as yours. I’ll tell you summat: if I can mek Betty as happy as John has made you I shall be well satisfied.’

  ‘So have you named the day for the wedding?’ John asked. He was embarrassed by the compliments Will was handing out and relieved to change the subject.

  ‘We will as soon as the house is ready; it’ll be at Cragstone of course, with Betty residing there. I say, the Goodmans are taking their time aren’t they? I thought they were going for a few days. Do yer think they’re sorting things out for Robbie?’

  ‘I’ve no idea but I certainly hope so.’ John frowned. Robbie’s problem was on his mind the whole time. Little did he know the mountainous problem Herbert and Louisa were coping with in Liverpool. In comparison John’s worry was little more than a mole hill.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  ‘OOH, NELLIE, WE shall never be straight again.’ Lily was scurrying around like a scalded hen trying to tidy up after the workmen, even though Nellie had told the daily cleaning woman to leave the mess until the job was done. The lift was installed and working, all the way from the dining room to the attic, and all they were waiting for now was for the plaster to dry and then Nellie could patch up where the wallpaper had been soiled.

  ‘Lily, come and sit down. I need you to cut the edges off this roll of wallpaper.’ The girl was making Nellie’s head spin with all the rushing around. Lily found the scissors. ‘Ooh, it will be good for the owd ones not to ’ave to go up and down stairs. Fancy me living in a ’ouse with a lift in it.’

  ‘It’ll be good for all of us, Lily. Just think, you’ll be able to carry everything up and down in half the time.’

  Lily looked shocked. ‘Ooh no, I shan’t use it. What if it broke down and got stuck in the middle? No, I shall still walk up and down stairs.’

  ‘That’d be silly, Lily.’

  ‘Mrs Cooper used to say that: Silly Lily. Ooh I do miss Mrs Cooper, even more than me mam. Do yer think that’s awful of me?’

  ‘No, Lily. If the truth be known I miss her more than my mother too.’ Nellie picked up the baby coat she was knitting and for once Lily was silent, as the pair both thought about how much they missed Mrs Cooper. Nellie knew she should have broached the subject to Tom of what would happen after the baby was born but she had just kept putting it off. She would talk to him tonight after they had eaten. He would have been mellowed then with a glass of wine. The more she considered bringing Mrs Cooper to Blackpool, the more sensible it seemed. Though what Tom would think of the idea she couldn’t even guess. She couldn’t really blame him if he didn’t want another woman in the house. Tom had never denied her anything in all the time they had been married – there was bound to be a first time, and she would abide by his decision. All the same she would be so disappointed if he said no.

  ‘Why do they put edges on wallpaper in’t first place when we ’ave to cut ’em off again?’ Lily enquired, her tongue keeping time to the opening and closing of the scissors.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Nellie had often wondered that herself. ‘Probably to prevent the wallpaper edges becoming damaged.’

  ‘Aye, I suppose.’ Lily carried on cutting. ‘Still, I expect rich folk who can afford wallpaper ’ave plenty o’ time to sit and cut, or somebody to do it for ’em. Poor folk ’ave to mek do wi’ whitewash.’

  Nellie felt quite shocked as it occurred to her that she was now considered one of the rich folk Lily was talking about. Well, she was working hard for it and employing two cleaners and Lily. Perhaps the money Lily was sending home might one day buy a few rolls of wallpaper for her mam. But no, according to Lily, poor folk had no time to sit cutting paper.

  The girl blushed as she realised what she had said and tried to make it better. ‘Not that me mam’d paper’t walls even if she could afford to; she’s too bone idle. Not like you, Nellie, not like you at all.’

  Just then they heard Tom’s key in the lock and Lily gathered up the wallpaper and scissors to go up to her room. She had never been asked to leave; she just did so automatically whenever Tom entered the room.

  Lily loved her room at the top of the house and it was no hardship for her to respect her employers’ privacy. She had a wireless and a shelf full of books and she could sit and think about Jim. It would be nice though if Mrs Cooper was here.

  ‘Tom.’

  ‘Yes, my dear?’ Tom had his head hidden in a newspaper, probably the motoring adverts.

  ‘What am I going to do when the baby comes?’

  ‘You will love it and cosset it, just as I shall.’

  ‘I know that, but what about when I’m cooking? Lily won’t have time to look after the baby; she works just as hard as I do.’

  ‘Well!’ Tom folded the newspaper and leaned back in his chair. ‘There’s one thing for sure; as much as I love my dear mother, I don’t want her taking over my child. Borrow the baby she may, but a few hours regularly would become all day. I don’t want that.’

  ‘Your mother wouldn’t want it either; she enjoys all her activities too much. So what do you suggest?’

  ‘Either stop taking in guests for a few years, or …’

  ‘Oh Tom, after all the money you’ve spent on the place it would be such a shame.’

  ‘Or. Stop interrupting and let me finish. Ask the wise young owl up there in her nest.’ Tom pointed up at the ceiling, a wicked gleam in his eye.

  ‘Lily? Has she been talking about it?’

  ‘Oh no, not talking about it. Just dropping hints every time she’s within hearing distance. “Ooh, I do miss Mrs Cooper. Ooh, wouldn’t it be nice if Mrs Cooper could be ’ere to ’elp Nellie when the baby comes? Ooh, if only Mrs Cooper could ’ave a bedroom like mine.”’

  Nellie couldn’t help laughing at Tom’s impression of Lily.

  ‘So,’ Tom said, ‘it might not be a bad idea at that. I know how much you miss her and I should feel easier in my mind with a capable woman at hand when the baby’s here. Besides, after going to all the expense of having the lift installed …’

  ‘You mean you had Mrs Cooper in mind all the time?’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t go all the way up to the attic for Lily’s benefit.’

  ‘Oh, Tom. Are you sure you won’t mind?’

  ‘If it will make you happy I don’t mind.’

  ‘Do you know? You’re the loveliest man I’ve ever met in my life.’

  ‘I should hope so, Nellie Johnson. I should certainly hope so.’

  Lucy was surprised to hear Mr Holmes coughing his way to her door. He wasn’t a man to come calling, especially at this time of the morning. He knocked, opened the door a couple of inches and called, ‘Lucy, are yer there, lass?’

  ‘Come in, Mr Holmes. Is anything the matter?’

  ‘No, lass. It’s summat in’t paper you ought to see.’ He opened the paper and pointed to one of the columns. Lucy sat down at the table and read, her face turning pale as the news sank in. ‘The man wanted in connection with the murder of Millington woman Evelyn Smithson has been killed in a motorcycle accident on Sunday evening. The accident happened on Attercliffe Common. The vehicle was thought to have been stolen.’

  Lucy felt faint with relief and couldn’t read any more. ‘Oh, Mr Holmes, he’s gone at last. You don’t know how relieved I am that he won’t be able to take Bernard away. Oh I’m so glad you noticed it or it would have been on my mind for ever.’

  ‘Are tha all reight, love? Shall I get thee a drink or summat?’

&
nbsp; ‘No, I’m fine, thank you. Unless you want one?’

  Mr Holmes didn’t want to leave the lass on her own. It must have been a shock for her. ‘Aye, I could do wi’ one. Just you sit there and I’ll make it.’ He lifted the kettle off the fire, checking that it held enough water. ‘I don’t think the news is summat we should draw anybody’s attention to, or your little Bernard might get to hear of it.’

  ‘No, Mr Holmes, you’re right. At least when he does start asking questions now I can truthfully tell him his dad is dead.’ The two neighbours sat together, not needing to talk, each glad of the other’s company, then he said, ‘You’re a sensible lass, Lucy and a right good mother to your lot.’

  ‘I do my best, Mr Holmes. If they grow up as well as your four I shall be well satisfied.’

  ‘Aye, we all do our best, but it doesn’t always work.’

  ‘I’m sure it worked for you.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know. The lasses have never given us any trouble, but I worry about our Harry.’

  ‘Your Harry?’ Lucy grinned. ‘I’m sure you needn’t worry about him. He’s a good worker, according to John, and he’ll have the pick of the girls with his handsome looks.’

  ‘He’s a cocky young bugger.’ He realised what he had said and looked shamefaced at Lucy. ‘Sorry lass, don’t tell our Lizzie about me bad language, will yer?’

  ‘I won’t.’ Lucy heard the twins and knew it was time to begin the day’s toil. Today she would carry out her tasks with a lighter heart: Bernard was safe. He might not be theirs yet, but at least he didn’t belong to a murderer anymore.

  Mrs Cooper read the letter for the fourth time and was still in shock at the contents. Nellie needed her. Not just needed her – wanted her. Actually wanted her to go and live in at the guest house, as a sort of part-time nanny when the baby came. Nanny be damned; if she went it would be as a granny, not a nanny. Oh, to think of her being given the chance to care for Nellie’s child. Nellie, who was like a daughter to her. Tears trickled down her cheeks at the joy of it. She read the words again, trying to read between the lines and discover what Tom Johnson thought about his home being invaded by an old woman. After all, it was his house. It was his money that had paid for the property and all the work that had been done to it, and now he had apparently had a lift installed, right up to the room she would be sharing with Lily. A sort of flat, was how Lily described it, every bit as posh as Mr Smith’s room.