by Kitty Neale
His mother sat down as Billy tucked into his eggs, and she slurped her hot tea. ‘There’s a little something for you on top of the mantel,’ Billy told her. ‘It isn’t much, what with me being out of work at the moment, but go and get it, Mum, and happy Christmas.’
She scraped her chair back and did a little jig, bosoms bouncing. ‘Oh, son, you shouldn’t have, but I do love a surprise,’ she said, rushing to the front room. She soon returned, clutching a small package wrapped in brown paper. She untied the string and slowly peeled back the paper to reveal a long red wool scarf with matching gloves. ‘Billy, they’re lovely! Thank you. I’ll need these in this bloody weather!’
‘I’m glad you like them, Mum.’
‘Now, this is for you,’ she said, taking a box from the kitchen unit and placing it on the table in front of him. ‘Go on, open it.’
Billy looked at the box and felt awful. His mother was being so good to him. She had nursed him back to health after the beating he’d taken from Harry, yet she had no idea that it was because of him that Frank had disappeared. He found he couldn’t live with the guilt any longer and said, ‘Mum, I think there’s something you should know. All that business with Frank and Glenda Jenkins. It was me that told Harry.’ He immediately felt better having confessed, but squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the onslaught from his mother.
‘What, did you think I didn’t already know that? Don’t be daft. It’s been the subject of gossip around here for weeks. I’m sure you meant no harm by it, and whether you let it slip to Harry by accident or because you thought you was doing the right thing, it’s done now.’
‘I still feel rotten about it.’
‘Let’s get one thing straight. Frank shouldn’t have been messing about with a married woman, but he was and now he’s paying for it. It’ll never be safe for him to come back to these parts, not while that Harry Jenkins has got breath in him. I just wish I knew where he was, and that he’s all right.’
Billy couldn’t believe that his mum already knew and hadn’t blamed him for Frank’s departure. It was a massive weight off his mind, but he still felt a pang of jealousy when he thought of Frank with Glenda Jenkins.
Later that afternoon, whilst his mother busied herself in the kitchen preparing Christmas dinner for the two of them, Billy looked through the half a dozen cards on the mantelpiece. There was one with a picture of a Scottie dog on the front and a tartan border, which he guessed would be from his uncle Joe who had moved to Scotland twenty years ago, and another with children carolling which had been signed inside from Maurice and Lilly. Maurice was his dad’s brother whom Billy had never liked. The others were from neighbours, but then he spotted something just poking out behind the clock. Billy pulled it out to find it was another card, one with a funny seaside cartoon scene that had probably been sent by his aunty Anne in Margate. He hadn’t seen her in years, but held fond childhood memories of holidays splashing in the cold sea and donkey rides along the beach. He wondered why his mother had stuffed this card out of sight behind the clock.
Puzzled, Billy opened the card to read inside, and suddenly his blood ran cold. There was a little note attached, which referred to the ‘happy couple’ having settled in well and the young man finding work. In an instant Billy knew who Anne was talking about. Frank and Glenda were in Margate and his mother must have known about it for all these weeks. Nearly two months and the sly old cow had kept it quiet! Billy fumed. He’d bet she’d bloody helped them get away too.
And there was me, he thought, feeling guilty! All the warmth he’d been feeling towards his mother went up in a puff of smoke as he wondered what Harry would think if he told him that he knew where the lovebirds were shacking up. That sort of information had to be worth something!
Even with the stove lit and wearing two pairs of socks, Frank’s feet were still numb from the cold. He guessed that Glenda wouldn’t feel much like celebrating today so he had politely declined the offer from his aunt Anne to share her Christmas lunch. Anne had said she was secretly pleased as she really would rather go down to the village hall where a good crowd of old folk were going to have a bit of a knees-up.
Frank had gathered enough driftwood for the burner to keep them warm all day, and his boss had given him two nice pieces of plaice, which he planned to gently fry for himself and Glenda later. He couldn’t wait to gather around their pine branch and watch Glenda’s face as she opened her gift. They couldn’t be married as it would be impossible for Glenda to get a divorce, but they were living as husband and wife so Frank had decided he should make it more official. The small wooden box in the pine branch contained a gold ring. It was second-hand and hadn’t cost Frank much but the extra hours he had been working just about covered the price. He was sure Glenda would love it and hoped it fitted her.
Frank climbed out of the bed, being careful not to disturb Glenda who was still sleeping. He shivered with the cold as he made a pot of tea, arranged a plate of toast and went to gently wake Glenda.
‘Good morning, my lovely,’ he said as he placed the tray down and gently kissed her on the cheek. ‘Happy Christmas, darling, and can I just add that you look absolutely radiant this morning!’
‘Oh, Frank, stop it. I must look a right sight!’
Her dark hair was tousled, and overnight a big red spot had sprouted on her chin, but as Frank looked at Glenda he thought as always that he had never seen a sight so beautiful. However, before he could tell her so, Glenda flew out of bed and made a barefoot dash for the outside lavvy.
‘Are you all right?’ Frank called after Glenda, but she hadn’t made it to the toilet and was vomiting just outside the door on the icy shingle.
‘I’m fine, Frank,’ said Glenda lifting her head and wiping her mouth, ‘I don’t know what came over me … it must be all this Christmas excitement.’
‘Come on, love, get back inside in the warm. I’ll get you a glass of water.’
‘Thanks, Frank,’ she answered but he noticed she appeared a bit distant and wondered if she felt giddy.
‘Do you need a hand? You ain’t going to faint or nothing, are you?’ he asked, genuinely concerned by her pale complexion.
‘No … no … I think I’m OK,’ she said but her face was creased into a frown and Frank wasn’t convinced.
‘Let’s get you back into bed for a bit. It’s warmer in there and I’ve made you some tea and toast. It might settle your belly a bit.’
Frank tucked Glenda under the covers and plumped up the pillows behind her before handing her a cup of tea. ‘How are you feeling now, love?’ he asked.
She looked like she had seen a ghost. Frank began to worry what he would do if she was taken ill on Christmas Day as he wouldn’t be able to call a doctor out to her.
‘I’m feeling better now, thanks, but I’m not sure I can get this toast down me. I should try, though, Frank … especially as I think I’m eating for two.’
It took a while for the penny to drop, then Frank suddenly felt like the wind had been knocked out of him and he jumped to his feet only to grab hold of the door frame to steady himself. ‘You’re p–p–pregnant?’ he stuttered.
‘Yes, Frank – I think I am.’ Glenda smiled and her cheeks finally filled with colour again.
‘I’m gonna be a father? Oh, Glenda, that’s the best Christmas present ever!’
For a brief moment Glenda looked truly happy, but all too soon the sadness that Frank was so used to seeing in her eyes reappeared and he knew that she was thinking about Johnnie. ‘Come here, love,’ he said, his arms outstretched. ‘We’ll get your boy back soon, I promise you. We can all be a family together.’
The stocking for Johnnie hanging on the front-room mantelpiece was filled with mostly homemade presents for his first Christmas. Maude had knitted him a teddy bear and a dog and Bob had carved him a toy car, which made Maude smile as Johnnie was still a bit too young to play with it. He was growing fast, though, and held under the arms he would balance on his chubby little legs, b
ut Maude felt it would be some time yet before he was walking. Crawling wasn’t far off, though, and then she’d need eyes in the back of her head to keep a watch on him.
She’d roasted a chicken that she had managed to buy under the counter and she was now awaiting the arrival of Harry, his elder brother Len and Len’s wife Connie.
Harry arrived first, looking dishevelled, but with his arms loaded with gifts. ‘Merry Christmas, Mum. Where’s that boy of mine?’
Maude led Harry through to the front room where Bob was happily bouncing a contented-looking Johnnie up and down on his knee.
‘Look who’s here, Johnnie, it’s your daddy,’ said Bob.
Johnnie chuckled in recognition. ‘Da, da, da,’ he squealed in delight.
‘Mum, did you hear that?’ Harry said excitedly. ‘Johnnie just said his first words, he called me Dad!’
‘He certainly did. Who’s a clever boy then?’ Maude said with a smile. ‘Shame his mother isn’t here to witness it,’ she added through gritted teeth.
‘Look, I ain’t being funny, but it’s Christmas Day and I don’t want that woman’s name mentioned. She’s out of our lives now and good riddance to her,’ Harry growled.
‘That’s fine by me, son,’ said Maude. ‘Now, get your coat off and I’ll put the kettle on. Len and Connie will be here soon.’
Maude could feel the tension emanating from Harry. Sure, he was putting on a cheery face, but he’d snapped far too quickly when she had mentioned Glenda, and it didn’t look as if he’d seen a bathtub for at least a week. Still, she reasoned, it’s still raw for him. It’s only been a couple of months but at least he gets up and goes to work every day. It was a shame he didn’t come round more often for his tea; no doubt he was spending all his nights down that bloody pub.
A knock on the door stopped Maude from her worrying thoughts and she went to greet her eldest son and his wife. Connie had never fallen pregnant, but they seemed happy enough without kids and lived a good life in Clapham. Len had worked for the same timber merchant for years and had worked his way up to general manager. He earned a good wage, and although he wasn’t a violent man like his younger brothers, he was seen as just as arrogant and known to be a bit of a showoff.
Maude opened the door to see a large shiny car in the road behind Len and Connie.
‘Hello, Mother,’ Len greeted her. ‘Yes, take a good look. That’s my new car. What do you reckon? Go and get Dad, will you?’
Len looked smart in his grey suit and fresh white shirt, with a smart black overcoat and glossy shoes. Blimey, thought Maude proudly, this will be one in the eye for the neighbours. There weren’t many cars that drove down this street, or many men that turned up looking like they had just walked out of a fine West End department-store window.
‘Oh, look at you,’ Maude shrieked, hoping to see curtains twitching. ‘Don’t you look a picture, and fancy that, having your very own car. BOB! Bob, come ’ere and take a look at this.’
Bob came to the front door and looked just as impressed as Maude at the sight of his son and his new car.
‘Fancy a quick ride in it?’ Len asked.
‘I don’t know about that. I’ve never been in a car before, but I would like to sit in it,’ Maude said as she climbed in to admire the leather upholstery and polished wooden dashboard. She held the steering wheel and looked around at her family’s happy faces. Happy, that was, except for Harry, who had pulled back the net curtains and was scowling through the window.
As she got out of the car, Maude could see a few curtains moving and was glad that the neighbours had noticed. She deliberately took her time as she sauntered back to her front door. Huh, she thought, that’ll give them all something to talk about. My boy’s got a car.
Harry greeted his brother with a nod and grunted an abrupt ‘Hello’ to Connie, and though Maude thought it was a bit rude she held her tongue. Truth be told, none of the family had ever thought much of Connie with her haughty accent and her finicky manner. She hadn’t come from anything special, but she liked to think of herself as something other than working class.
Maude noticed her looking down her nose at the slightly tatty furniture, but chose to ignore the silent insult. Yes, her stuff might have seen better years, but it was all clean and well cared for, unlike Connie’s house, where Len had hired a cleaner as Connie couldn’t keep on top of the housework. Too busy out spending my son’s hard-earned cash, Maude decided, noticing the expensive jacket and skirt that Connie was wearing and the string of pearls around her slender neck.
It was only mid-morning, but Maude was concerned about Harry, who was now sitting silently in the corner of the room and knocking back a bottle of beer. He didn’t seem to want to interact with his brother, and Maude thought maybe there was a bit of jealousy there. She was relieved to see that he was pretty much ignoring Johnnie too. He had had quite a few beers, and Maude wasn’t sure if he was still in a fit state to hold the child. When lunchtime arrived, Bob handed Johnnie over to Connie while he and Len brought in the kitchen table for them all to sit round. The atmosphere was light and Harry seemed to have cheered up a bit, but he was still drinking heavily. Maude laid the table and put out the chicken, vegetables and potatoes, pleased with her efforts and looking forward to toasting lunch with a large sherry.
However, just as Maude put the gravy boat on the table, Connie squeaked and held Johnnie out at arm’s length. ‘Oh, goodness me,’ she complained. ‘This child absolutely stinks and I do believe his nappy needs to be changed. Get him off me! Someone – anyone – please take him!’
Maude saw Connie’s look of disgust, and that Johnnie was wriggling and crying in her bony hands. She also noticed the flash of anger on Harry’s face, he too annoyed at Connie’s reaction to his son.
‘Give him here,’ said Maude quickly, taking Johnnie into her arms. ‘There’s no need for that, Connie. He’s just a baby and can’t help soiling his nappy.’
‘Well, he should have his mother here to look after him. It’s a disgrace, it really is. And we can all guess why she took it upon herself to leave with another man,’ Connie said accusingly as she looked at Harry then back at her long red nails.
Before Maude could react Harry leaped from his seat and upturned the table laden with lunch. ‘You bitch!’ he screamed at Connie, who now sat pale-faced and frozen in her chair. ‘I know what you’re saying, you fucking stuck-up mare. You reckon it’s my fault that the slag ran off.’
‘I–I’m just saying she must have had good reason,’ Connie answered, her voice faltering as she struggled to maintain her composure.
Harry’s fists clenched. ‘Len, I’m telling you, get her out of my sight before I do something we’ll both regret!’
Johnnie was screaming, Bob looked dumbfounded, Maude was surveying the upturned table and Len was making a hasty retreat down the hallway, pushing Connie out of the front door in front of him. ‘You’ll never change, Harry. You ruin everything, always have and always will,’ Len shouted at his brother as he slammed shut the front door.
Maude rocked Johnnie and looked down at her lovely Christmas lunch, which was now just a mess strewn over the floor. Harry had sat back down and was swigging from another bottle of beer, his head hung low.
‘Well, don’t just stand there gawping,’ said Maude to Bob. ‘Go and get a mop and bucket. You can clear this lot up while I make us some spam sandwiches. Harry, what have you got to say for yourself?’
‘Sorry’ was all Harry answered but Maude doubted that he truly was. His outburst had been ugly to witness and over the top, yet there were no real signs of remorse. He had just flown off the handle and, she had to admit, it hadn’t taken much to get him started.
For the first time, Maude could understand why Glenda had been so frightened of her husband – scared to the point of abandoning her child.
Chapter 11
It was a bitterly cold January, yet Glenda was pleased to see in the New Year and put 1947 behind her. The royal wedding of Princess El
izabeth to Philip Mountbatten had pretty much passed her by, but now with this new life growing inside her she had actually felt like celebrating. It was only overshadowed by guilt and the ache in her heart of missing Johnnie.
Glenda snuggled close to the stove and pulled a blanket over her legs as she took from its envelope the letter that Helen had sent. This must have been at least the twelfth time she had read it since the vicar had passed it to her at the Christmas Nativity play.
Dear Glenda,
I had been worried sick so it was so lovely to hear from you.
I’m so pleased to hear you and Frank have settled in well. The address you gave me for the church is in Kent, so I know you must be living somewhere there. I hear it’s a beautiful part of the country. Dad calls it the garden of England, though I did read somewhere that large areas of Kent had suffered with bomb damage. Still, it can’t be half as bad as here.
I called round to see Maude, she’s been looking after Johnnie and honestly Glenda, she’s doing a wonderful job. He looked really well and happy. She’s agreed that I can take him for a few hours once a fortnight. It gives her a break and I thought it would be nice for your mum and dad to see him. By the way, they are both well too, though your dad is worried for you. I told him that you’re fine and with Frank which has eased his mind, but you know what dads are like.
I talked to Johnnie a lot about you. I’m not sure how much he understood, bless him, but I won’t let him forget you. He’s grown quite a bit, I think he must have had a bit of a growing spurt but Maude has bought him lots of clothes from the second-hand shop, all washed, and she even got him a special little coat from Arding and Hobbs.
The rest of the letter contained general chitchat and a warning about the postman, so Glenda read the first bit over again. Helen said that Johnnie had grown and she tried to picture him in her mind. Oh, how she longed to hold her child in her arms again, to smell his soft skin and stroke his fluffy hair. The familiar feelings of despondency and guilt overwhelmed her, and she gave in to the tears and heartbreak again.
