Pastures New

by Margaret Thornton

  The girls busied themselves in the kitchen when Mrs Porter had gone, carefully stacking the dishwasher with the precious china then making pots of both tea and coffee to end the meal, a northern custom that Joshua insisted upon. They poured out and handed round the beverages, then it was time for the ritual of giving out the Christmas presents.

  They were in a huge pile beneath the Christmas tree, large ones and small ones all wrapped in gaily patterned paper and ribbon and gift tags.

  Lucy, after a short nap, was sitting on Val’s knee looking bright and alert as though she knew what was going on. Russell, quiet for once, was leaning against his daddy’s knees. Val was pleased he was behaving so well and hoped against hope that this would continue. She was more relaxed now and the tension she always felt on meeting Beatrice had receded.

  ‘Rosemary, dear, would you like to hand out all these nice Christmas presents?’ Beatrice said now to the little girl whom Val guessed was her favourite grandchild.

  She was an angelic-looking child with pale blonde hair and delicate features like her mother. She was dressed in a dark-red velvet frock with ribbons in her hair. She smiled and nodded, looking delighted at the idea. Both she and Russell had been eyeing the presents with interest.

  ‘I’ll read the names on the labels and then you can take them round,’ said Thelma. ‘Now, let’s see … This one says, “To Russell, with love from Grandma and Grandpa”.’

  Russell actually remembered to say thank you and started to tear off the paper at once.

  ‘I think we’d better wait till Rosemary has given them all out,’ said Val. ‘Then we can all open them together. OK, Russell?’

  He started to scowl, then thought better of it as he watched what was happening. Presents for everybody, and there might be some more for him! ‘OK,’ he said.

  The children had received their main family presents in the morning – the ones that Father Christmas had brought – although they had been told that Mummy and Daddy had had a part in it as well, lest they should grow up believing that the magic man in red would bring everything they wished for without question.

  These gifts were from family members to one another: to Jon and Thelma from Sam and Val, and vice versa; to Mum and Dad from Sam and Val … and so on. There were presents from great-grandparents and aunts and uncles who were not there but who liked to remember the children at Christmas, and when Rosemary had finished her task the unwrapping began.

  Soon the carpet was littered with the discarded paper, ribbons, tinsel and gift cards. The gifts had been so carefully wrapped and were now torn apart by the children’s eager little hands. The adults, though, were slightly more patient and thanked one another delightedly for the cashmere jumpers and pullovers, leather gloves, boxes of exclusive chocolates that one only bought at Christmastime, perfume and boxes containing special beauty products.

  The children received sensible presents of jumpers, dresses and woolly hats, but there were more interesting things as well: jigsaw puzzles, games, building bricks, colouring books and crayons. Russell and Rosemary were wildly excited and Lucy stared at it all in wonder. When Russell started a game of screwing up the paper and throwing it around, encouraging Rosemary to do the same, Val and Thelma decided it was time to put an end to the merriment. They gathered up all the debris and took it away.

  The two children were persuaded to ‘play nicely and quietly’ with a jigsaw puzzle while the adults enjoyed a glass of sherry and listened to the queen’s speech. Fortunately, peace reigned while Her Majesty was speaking but came to an end when Russell started to snatch at the pieces and shove them in the wrong places, much to Rosemary’s annoyance.

  ‘He’s spoiling it!’ she shouted. ‘He can’t do it; he’s too little!’

  ‘Can! Can do!’ he retorted, and Val intervened just as he was about to punch his cousin.

  ‘Don’t be cross with him, Rosemary,’ said Thelma. ‘He’s only two and you’re four-and-a-half, aren’t you? Put the jigsaw away now and you can do it another time.’

  Russell was red in the face and scowling. Val knew that he was also quite tired as he had been up since the crack of dawn. She looked appealingly at Sam and he read her thoughts.

  ‘Well, folks,’ said Sam. ‘Sorry to break up the party but I think it’s time we were heading back home.’

  ‘Oh, surely not so soon,’ said Beatrice. ‘You haven’t been here all that long.’

  But Sam knew from the glances she kept levelling at Russell that she would not really be sorry to see them depart.

  ‘Long enough, Mother,’ he said, then realized that his remark was rather tactless. ‘I mean … I did say that we wouldn’t stay for tea. Lucy will be very tired by then, and this little man …’ he patted Russell’s head, ‘… is getting tired as well, and that’s when he starts to get … a little bit difficult.’

  Beatrice nodded. ‘Just as you say, dear. But it’s been lovely to see you all.’

  There was a good deal of commotion then as coats were put on, all the presents gathered up and put in a big carrier bag, and there were hugs and kisses and promises to ‘see you soon’.

  ‘Give Gran a kiss,’ said Val to Russell.

  He looked a little unsure but dutifully pecked at her cheek. Beatrice put an arm round him, just for a moment. ‘You’ve been a good boy, for most of the time,’ she said.

  Joshua picked him up and lifted him high in the air. ‘He’s a grand little fellow, aren’t you, Russell? You’ve got a lovely little family there,’ he said as he put the child down and kissed Val’s cheek. ‘Well done, Valerie, my dear.’

  Eventually all the goodbyes had been said and they were in the car and ready for off.

  Val let out a deep sigh. ‘Thank goodness that’s over!’

  ‘Why? It wasn’t too bad,’ said Sam. ‘No temper tantrums and no fisticuffs. I thought he did rather well. He’s getting better, I’m sure he is.’

  ‘He’s scared stiff of your mother, and who can blame him?’ said Val.

  Sam thought it best not to answer.

  Lucy was ready for a sleep when they arrived home but Russell had recovered from his tiredness. He raced around, waving his arms and whooping loudly. Val knew he was glad to be home in an environment where he could be himself; he had exercised restraint for long enough. She managed to quieten him with a jigsaw puzzle that was easier than the one he had attempted with Rosemary. It featured his favourite things: cars and buses and a big red fire engine.

  ‘I’ll ring Janice now,’ she said as peace was temporarily restored. ‘I’ll thank her for the children’s presents, wish them a happy Christmas and see how my little goddaughter’s getting on. Keep an eye on Russell, won’t you, Sam?’

  Sam, ensconced in an easy chair and almost asleep, opened one eye and nodded.

  EIGHT

  ‘That was Val on the phone,’ said Janice, late on the afternoon of Christmas Day, ‘thanking us for the children’s presents, so I thanked her for Sarah’s, of course. They’ve been to Sam’s parents for dinner; quite an ordeal, I should imagine. I’m glad I haven’t got a mother-in-law like Beatrice! I really look forward to seeing your parents, Phil. They’ve always been so easy to get along with, and they make Ian welcome as well.’

  ‘Yes, they’re a pretty easy-going couple,’ agreed Phil. ‘Make the most of your relaxing day tomorrow, love. Mum and Dad will insist on doing everything themselves. You’ll be busy with your dad and Norma the following day but I’ll do most of the cooking, like I promised, and Ian will want to show off his new skills.’

  ‘I’ve told him to invite Sophie for tea on Tuesday, when Dad and Norma are here. They haven’t met her yet. Not that there’s anything serious between Ian and Sophie but they seem to get along well together. They won’t have seen one another for two whole days, and it seems ages when you’re young, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know so much,’ said Phil. ‘They’re coping with their separation pretty well. Ian’s enjoying his course and there seems to be a
lot going on at Sophie’s college. It remains to be seen if their friendship will stand the test of time. These teenage romances don’t always survive.’

  ‘Ours did,’ said Janice, ‘or perhaps I should say that mine did. You were my first real boyfriend, although I don’t know what you’d been up to before we met.’

  ‘Not a great deal,’ said Phil with a laugh. ‘And I’ve certainly no cause to complain now.’ He gave her a quick hug and a kiss. ‘What are we having for tea?’

  ‘Tea!’ Janice stared at him. ‘Do you really think we need any tea after that enormous meal?’

  ‘Well, a late tea, or perhaps an early supper. Ian will no doubt be hungry again when he gets back.’

  Ian, after dutifully listening to the queen’s speech, had gone out for a long walk to get some fresh air and burn off the excess pounds gained with eating two helpings of Christmas pudding.

  ‘OK, we’ll get Sarah bathed and into bed first, and then … turkey sandwiches, I suppose, and I’ll cut the Christmas cake. Then it’ll be telly, won’t it? The usual variety show. Who’s on this year?’

  The scene was similar to thousands of others throughout the country. Some family gatherings would be considerably larger, sometimes leading to frayed tempers and squabbles as the host and hostess tried, often unsuccessfully, to please everybody.

  Cissie’s and Walter’s families, the Fosters and the Clarksons, had been friends for a considerable time and they always spent Christmas Day together, one year at the Fosters’ home and the following year at the Clarksons’. This year it was the turn of the Clarksons.

  The men, Joseph Foster and Archie Clarkson, had worked together at a woollen mill for many years – not Walker’s mill but another one at the other side of the town. Their wives had worked for a while as weavers but were now glad to stay at home and be housewives. The men, also, were sidesmen and keen workers at their local church. Their wives, Hannah and Millie had, therefore, struck up a friendship; a somewhat cautious one, however, for Hannah Foster could not entirely conceal her envy of Millie. Both sets of parents, though, had always hoped for a marriage between Cissie and Walter, their only children, and this had taken place five years ago in 1955.

  Now there were two grandchildren and it was a source of quiet amusement to Cissie and Walter as they watched their parents, especially the mothers – and more especially Hannah Foster – competing with one another over the gifts they bought for their grandchildren, Paul and Holly.

  ‘Come along now, you two,’ said Cissie when it was nearing twelve o’clock on Christmas Day. ‘It’s time we were getting ready to go and see Grandma and Granddad.’

  ‘Which ones?’ asked Holly, stopping for a moment as she wheeled her new doll’s pram up and down the hallway.

  ‘Grandma Millie,’ answered Cissie, and she was not really surprised to hear Holly exclaim, ‘Goody!’ She suppressed a smile; it did not worry her that Walter’s mother was the favourite granny. She knew that her own mother loved both children very much, but Millie was far more easy-going and relaxed in her relationship with the children, something they must have noticed, albeit unconsciously. Cissie and her mother had never got along together all that well, although there had been an improvement in their relationship since the arrival of the children.

  Paul had just come in from the garden where he had been riding his new tricycle up and down the path. ‘Daddy’s getting the car out,’ he said, ‘and he’s putting my bike away in a special place in the garage.’

  ‘Can I take my pram to Gran’s?’ asked Holly.

  ‘No, there won’t be room in the car,’ said Cissie, ‘but you can take your new dolly. Put her nice new coat on, then she’ll be warm.’

  It was Holly’s third birthday as well as being Christmas Day, so she had received either two gifts or one more special one from relations and friends. She didn’t seem to mind; she had been told that she was special because she shared her birthday with baby Jesus. She had heard a lot about him recently as she’d learnt the words and sang along with Paul as he practised ‘Away in a Manger’ and ‘Little Jesus Sweetly Sleep’ for his nativity play.

  ‘Can I take my table decoration to Gran’s?’ asked Paul. ‘We’re not having our dinner here, are we?’

  ‘Oh, yes, she’ll love that,’ said Cissie, ‘but we must remember to bring it back, then we can put it on our own table tomorrow. Now, let’s find the presents we’re taking for Grandma and Granddad, and Nana and Grandpa as well.’

  Officially, Hannah was Nana and Millie was Grandma, but the names often got confused and shortened to Gran.

  They packed all their belongings in the boot of the car, then Walter drove the short distance – a mile or so – to his parents’ home. It was a semi-detached house, quite a modest one with small gardens to the front and rear. This was a bone of contention, however, to Hannah Foster, as their home was a terraced house in a row of others just like it, opening straight on to the street. Both families, though, did own their own properties.

  The Clarksons also owned a car, whereas the Fosters did not. Joseph had not learnt to drive and had never been interested in doing so as he lived close to his place of work. It peeved Hannah that they had to accept lifts from their friends, although they never refused to do so, and they usually spent the annual summer holiday together using the Clarksons’ car.

  Cissie’s parents had already arrived and Hannah was seated in the best armchair by the fire. The two men were chatting amiably and Millie was busy in the kitchen. She appeared when she heard their voices, wiping her hands on the large white apron she was wearing to cover her best frock.

  She bent down to hug and kiss Holly first of all. ‘Happy birthday, Holly, and happy Christmas as well. Isn’t it exciting?’

  She also embraced Paul. ‘Happy Christmas, love. My goodness! Aren’t you growing? You’ll be as tall as your daddy before long.’

  ‘Grandma, I’ve brought something special,’ he said. ‘It’s a table decoration. We made them at school and it’s to stand in the middle of the table when we have our dinner. Would you like it?’ He carefully removed it from its bag and handed it to his gran.

  ‘Well, isn’t that lovely!’ she exclaimed, taking hold of the Father Christmas, a washing-up liquid bottle wearing a red crepe paper coat and hat, with eyes nose and mouth drawn on a cardboard face, rosy red cheeks and a cotton wool beard.

  ‘Have you made it all by yourself?’

  ‘Well, most of it. The teacher helped a bit. We all made one.’

  ‘Look, Nana.’ Millie held up the figure to show to Hannah. ‘Isn’t he lovely? He’ll match my red tablecloth.’

  ‘Very nice,’ said Hannah briefly. ‘Aren’t you going to come and give Nana a kiss, Paul?’

  He dutifully did so, and so did Holly. As if he was aware of a slight tension in the air, Paul said, ‘We only made one, Nana, and Grandma can’t keep it. She can use it today, then we’re taking it home to put on our own table tomorrow, aren’t we, Mummy?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, love,’ said Cissie. ‘Hello, Mam, Happy Christmas.’

  There were greetings all round, then coats were removed and room was made in the small lounge for the newcomers.

  There were two downstairs rooms and a small kitchen. The front room – the lounge, or sitting room – was kept for best and only used on special occasions. The larger back room was the dining and living room, which was used most of the time. Today a coal fire burned in the cream-and-green-tiled fireplace in the lounge, a few paper streamers showed that it was Christmas, and the small artificial tree that Walter remembered from his boyhood stood in the window with the same fairy on the top.

  ‘Do you need any help, Millie?’ asked Cissie. Her mother-in-law had said she should call her Millie and Cissie had got used to doing so. Hannah had felt obliged to ask Walter to use her Christian name, something that would have been considered outrageous a generation ago.

  ‘No, thank you, dear,’ said Millie in answer to the question. ‘I’m managing all ri
ght but it’s nice of you to ask. Perhaps you could help to set the table in a little while, you and Hannah?’

  Hannah sniffed. She was supposed to be a guest today. She gave a faint smile. ‘Yes, I don’t mind helping if you’re busy.’

  Paul pulled at his mum’s arm. ‘What about the presents, Mummy? Shall I hand them out now?’

  ‘Perhaps we should wait till we’ve had our dinner, Paul,’ said Millie. ‘I’m rather busy at the moment. I’m just going to see how the turkey’s cooking and then I’ve to see to the potatoes and vegetables. So shall we wait till later? We’ve got some nice presents for you as well.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. It’ll be something else to look forward to,’ said Cissie, ‘after we’ve enjoyed Grandma’s nice dinner. You can play with your Lego now, and Holly’s brought her new dolly.’

  The two men were still chatting and Walter went to join them on the settee. They started to talk ‘shop’ about the conditions in their respective mills.

  ‘Come on, Mam,’ said Cissie after a little while. ‘Let’s help Millie with the table.’

  The folding table was extended to its full size to seat eight of them, and Cissie fetched extra chairs from upstairs to make the full number.

  ‘The tablecloth and cutlery are in the sideboard drawer,’ said Mille, coming in from the kitchen looking hot and flustered. ‘You know where they are, don’t you, Cissie? And the wine glasses are in the little cupboard at the top. They might need a wash; we haven’t used them for ages. And you can use two bigger glasses for the children’s orange juice. The tablemats are in the bottom drawer and here’s the special serviettes I’ve bought. I’ll leave you to see to it, then. I’ve just the gravy to make and I’ll get Archie to carve the turkey.’