Many a Tear has to Fall

Home > Other > Many a Tear has to Fall > Page 1
Many a Tear has to Fall Page 1

by Joan Jonker




  Many A Tear

  Has To Fall

  Joan Jonker

  Copyright © 2000 Joan Jonker

  The right of Joan Jonker to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

  First published as an Ebook by Headline Publishing Group in 2011

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library

  eISBN : 978 0 7553 9071 7

  HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP

  An Hachette UK Company

  338 Euston Road

  London NW1 3BH

  www.headline.co.uk

  www.hachette.co.uk

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Author

  Also by Joan Jonker

  Dedication

  Forward

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Joan Jonker was born and bred in Liverpool. Her childhood was a time of love and laughter with her two sisters, a brother, a caring but gambling father and an indomitable mother who was always getting them out of scrapes. Then came the Second World War when she met and fell in love with her husband, Tony. For twenty-three years, Joan campaigned tirelessly on behalf of victims of violence, and it was during this time that she turned to writing fiction. Sadly, after a brave battle against illness, Joan died in February 2006. Her best-selling Liverpool sagas will continue to enthral readers throughout the world.

  Joan Jonker’s previous novels, several of which feature the unforgettable duo Molly and Nellie, have won millions of adoring fans:

  ‘Wonderful . . . the characters are so real I feel I am there in Liverpool with them’ Athena Tooze, Brooklyn, New York

  ‘I enjoy your books for they bring back memories of my younger days’ Frances Hassett, Brixham, Devon

  ‘Thanks for all the good reads’ Phyllis Portock, Walsall

  ‘I love your books, Joan, they bring back such happy memories’ J. Mullett, Lancashire

  ‘I’m an ardent fan, Joan, an avid reader of your books. As an old Liverpudlian, I appreciate the humour. Thank you for so many happy hours’ Mrs L. Broomhead, Liverpool

  Also by Joan Jonker

  When One Door Closes

  Man Of The House

  Home Is Where The Heart Is

  Stay In Your Own Back Yard

  Last Tram To Lime Street

  Sweet Rosie O’Grady

  The Pride Of Polly Perkins

  Sadie Was A Lady

  Walking My Baby Back Home

  Try A Little Tenderness

  Stay As Sweet As You Are

  Down Our Street

  Dream A Little Dream

  Many A Tear Has To Fall

  After The Last Dance Is Over

  Taking A Chance On Love

  Strolling With The One I Love

  To all the readers who have written such lovely

  letters to me.

  They are much appreciated.

  Dear Readers,

  Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, you’ll definitely need two boxes of tissues for this book. I did. But I think you’ll love the story and the characters who are warm, friendly and funny, just like yourselves. Happy reading and take care.

  Love

  Joan

  Chapter One

  ‘Only another two weeks and you start your holidays, George.’ Ann Richardson rested her knife and fork to glance across the table to where her husband sat. ‘I was wondering whether we could afford a few days away? It would be a break for the children, because their seven weeks’ holiday from school seems never-ending with them having nothing to fill their time.’

  ‘I think we could manage a few days, love, if we tighten our belts.’ George was a handsome man of forty-two. Tall and well built, he had a thick mop of black hair, a moustache that was curled to a point at each end, a strong jaw and a set of even white teeth. He smiled now as he asked, ‘Would you like that, girls?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Dad!’ Maddy, twelve years of age, bounced up and down on her chair. She had inherited her father’s colouring and his enthusiasm for life. ‘It would be lovely, wouldn’t it, Tess?’ She turned in her chair and put a hand on her sister’s arm. ‘Wouldn’t it be exciting?’

  Tess nodded, a faint smile covering her thin, pale face. ‘Yes, it would be lovely.’

  ‘We could go somewhere in the country, and the fresh air would put some colour in your cheeks.’ George looked fondly at the daughter who was a constant source of worry to him and his wife. She’d been sickly since the day she was born, and for years they’d consoled themselves by saying she’d grow out of it. But at ten years of age, she was so small and thin she could be taken for a child of eight. ‘You’d enjoy running in the fields and seeing the cows and sheep, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Will Maddy be with me?’

  ‘Of course I will, you daft thing.’ Maddy put a protective arm across her sister’s shoulders. ‘You don’t think I’d let you go anywhere without me, do you?’

  ‘Will you eat your dinners before they go cold?’ Ann said, putting on a stern expression. ‘We can talk when we’ve finished eating and the dishes are washed.’

  ‘I don’t want any more, Mam,’ Tess said. ‘I’m full up.’

  ‘You’ve hardly eaten enough to feed a bird, so come on, get it down you.’ Ann could feel her husband’s eyes on her but didn’t look towards him. She knew he would say to leave the child alone if she didn’t want any more to eat, but that was the easy way out. If anyone needed feeding up, it was Theresa, and sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind. ‘I refuse to throw good food into the midden every night.’

  Maddy leaned across to her sister’s plate and speared a potato. ‘Come on, Tess, eat this to please me.’ She held the fork near lips that were clamped tight. ‘Please?’

  The one person Tess loved most in the whole world was her sister. And she’d do anything to please her. So she opened her mouth and sank her teeth into the potato. But within seconds she was balking, and clamping a hand across her mouth she dashed from the room out into the yard, where they could hear her being sick.

  George sighed. ‘Why didn’t you just let her be? This happens every time you force her to eat more than her stomach can take.’

  ‘She has to eat to live! I will not stand by and watch our daughter starve herself to death. And that’s what is happening! Can’t you see that?’

  ‘I can see what’s happening right now, and vomiting her heart out will not improve her appetite.
’ George pushed his plate away, his own appetite deserting him. ‘Maddy, will you go and see to your sister, please?’

  Ann jumped to her feet. ‘Will you stop calling her Maddy? Her name is Madelaine. And I will see to Theresa myself.’ With a withering look she marched from the room, her back ramrod straight.

  George caught the worried expression on his elder daughter’s face. ‘It’s all right, pet, nothing to get upset about.’

  ‘But I do worry about Tess, Dad, she always seems to be sick. She’s hardly ever in school and she’s miles behind the other children.’

  ‘When she’s at home she’s still learning, pet. Don’t forget your mother was a teacher in an infants’ school for three years before we got married. That’s many years ago, of course, and much water has flowed under the bridge since then. But when Tess is not at school, your mother does take her for lessons each day.’

  Maddy lowered her head. She wouldn’t like to be taught by her mother because she was too strict. And the girl often thought the reason for her sister being sick so much was because she was scared. Her mother expected more from her than she was capable of. ‘I could help Tess with reading and sums, but I’m not allowed to.’

  Her father smiled. ‘I’m sure your mother knows you mean well, pet, but she is more experienced than you.’

  Maddy would have kept her mouth closed now, believing she’d said enough. But she could hear her mother in the kitchen telling Tess to rinse her mouth out, and the voice sounded more like a teacher’s than a mother’s. So Maddy dared to say, ‘Well, I’d rather be taught by a teacher than my mother. After all, you don’t have to live with the teacher.’

  George looked surprised, then thoughtful. It was something that had never entered his head, but perhaps the child had a point. So when his wife ushered Tess in, he took more interest in the behaviour of both than he normally would.

  ‘I think the best place for you is bed,’ Ann told the shivering girl. And there was no sympathy in her voice, she was just stating what she intended to happen. ‘Run upstairs and get undressed. And for heaven’s sake, try not to be sick in the bed.’

  Perhaps it was Maddy’s words that caused George to see his wife through the eyes of her children. She was two years younger than him, of medium height, still quite slim, and she carried herself well, shoulders always squared, never slumped. Her mousy-coloured hair was combed away from her face and plaited into a bun at the nape of her neck. It was a severe style, making her appear haughty, but she’d worn it like that for as long as George had known her, so he couldn’t imagine her any other way. She didn’t have much sense of humour, nor did a smile come easily to her face, but he was used to that. It hadn’t stopped him falling head over heels in love with her all those years ago, and he still loved her dearly. But was it possible that a child as fragile as Tess would feel intimidated by her, even though she was her mother?

  ‘No, leave her be.’ George held his arms wide. ‘Come here, pet, and I’ll give you a cuddle to warm you up.’ Holding the girl close, he rocked gently to and fro, until the shivering had stopped. Then he looked up at his wife. ‘Make some bread and milk for her, love, with plenty of sugar sprinkled on the top. With a bit of luck she might keep it down.’

  There was a hot retort on Ann’s lips, but it remained unspoken when she saw the look on her husband’s face that told her he would brook no argument.

  ‘You sit on my knee, pet, and I’ll feed you like I did when you were a toddler.’ Ignoring the disapproving looks thrown his way, George slowly spoon-fed his daughter. And feeling warm, contented and safe in his arms, Tess took in spoonful after spoonful until the dish was empty. ‘Well I never!’ George feigned surprise. ‘Has all that gone down your tummy, sweetheart?’

  Tess smiled. She had enjoyed the bread and milk, it had gone down easy. But better still, her father looked really pleased with her. ‘I’m a good girl, aren’t I, Dad?’

  ‘You’re always a good girl, pet.’ George kept a smile on his face even though he was feeling sad inside. She was ten years of age, but she didn’t speak as a ten-year-old. Like her body, her mind hadn’t matured. And it wasn’t as though they’d neglected her. Ann had taken her to the doctor’s many times, only to be told that while she was a frail child, and probably always would be, the doctor could find nothing wrong with her. No reason for her to be physically or mentally slow. But there had to be a reason, and it was up to him and Ann to find out what it was. ‘And you know your mam and dad love you very much.’ He caught the sadness in his wife’s eyes. ‘We do, don’t we, love?’

  ‘Of course we do!’ Endearments didn’t come easy to Ann because she’d grown up in a house where affection was never openly shown. She had been taught to be obedient, never to answer back, and often reminded that children should speak when they were spoken to. Her parents had loved her, she knew that, but words of love were never spoken, hugs and kisses never exchanged. ‘We love you dearly.’

  ‘And what about me?’ Maddy said, flinging her arms as wide as they’d go. ‘That’s how much I love you.’

  Tess giggled. ‘I love you that much, but my arms aren’t as long as yours.’

  George hugged her to him. ‘You can’t measure love in inches, pet, it’s in your heart. And when you know you’re loved, it makes you feel good inside, doesn’t it?’

  Large hazel eyes stared up at him. ‘You won’t ever stop loving me, Dad, will you? Even if I can’t do my sums or joined-up writing?’

  ‘Scout’s honour, pet, I’ll never stop loving you, no matter what.’

  ‘You can do sums anyway!’ Maddy said with feeling. ‘You were watching me doing my homework last week, and you were quick to tell me when I made a mistake in my adding-up. If it hadn’t been for you I’d have got a cross by that sum.’

  ‘Is that true, Madelaine, or are you just making it up?’ Ann asked. ‘You’re not helping Theresa by telling lies for her, you know.’

  ‘I’m not telling lies! I was doing my homework at the table and Tess was sitting next to me, watching. You were in the kitchen getting the dinner ready, Mam.’ Maddy smiled at her sister. ‘I’m not telling lies, am I?’

  Tess shook her head before drawing back into her father’s arms. She had to tell the truth because she loved her sister dearly and would never let her down. But she waited now for her mother to ask why she could get sums right for her sister but not for her. ‘They were only easy sums, though, Maddy, they weren’t hard ones.’ She was too frightened to add that there was no one standing over her while she did them, no one to reprimand or make her feel guilty if she got them wrong.

  ‘Let’s forget all about sums and talk about something more pleasant,’ George said. ‘Like the Richardson family going on holiday. How about that, eh?’

  ‘It would be great, Dad! All of my friends will be dead jealous.’ Maddy’s pretty face was agog. They’d never been on holiday before and the prospect was really exciting. ‘I won’t swank, though, ’cos that wouldn’t be nice, would it? So I’ll only tell my very best friends.’

  ‘Where would you like to go, the seaside or the country?’ George knew it would only be for a few days no matter where they went, because the money wouldn’t run to a whole week. But the two girls looked so happy he wasn’t going to say anything to take the shine out of their eyes.

  ‘We’ll go where Tess wants to go, shall we?’ Maddy said. ‘What do you think, Mam?’

  ‘I think we should let your father tell us what we could expect from a holiday by the seaside, or one in the country. And then you and Theresa can say which you prefer.’

  Maddy’s long dark hair fanned her face as she leaned towards her father. ‘Go on, Dad, we’re all ears.’

  He chuckled. How little it took to make children happy. ‘Well, you’ve been to the shore at Waterloo, and all seaside places are the same, with lots of sea and sand. There’d be plenty of fresh air, you could build sandcastles, paddle in the water with your dress tucked into your knickers, or even have a ride on a donkey.�


  Maddy was beside herself with excitement. ‘That sounds lovely, doesn’t it, Tess? Just think, you and me riding on a donkey. We could have a race.’

  ‘Ooh, no, I might fall off.’ Tess shuddered at the thought. Then her hazel eyes widened at yet another possible fear. ‘And if we were paddling, a big wave might come along and carry us out to sea.’

  ‘You’d have none of those fears in the country, pet,’ George said. ‘It would be a nice gentle holiday, with plenty of fields and flowers, cows and sheep. And you’d see the high mountains rising up to touch the sky.’

  Listening to her husband, Ann marvelled at his gentleness, and the ease with which he talked to their daughters. His childhood had been very different to her own, with easy-going parents who had filled their home with laughter and openly shown their love for their two children. George had never gone home without getting a kiss off his mother, even after he was married. And he treated his daughters as he and his older brother, Ken, had been treated, with love and tenderness. He was stroking Tess’s arm now, and although his work-worn hands were the size of shovels, his touch was as light as a feather. And the girl was looking up at him with admiration and love. Ann felt a familiar pang of envy as she wished she could find a way of throwing off the mantle of aloofness which she knew was standing between her and the girls. But the strict discipline with which she’d been reared, from her cradle to the day she’d married, was hard to cast away.

  ‘Ann!’ George raised his voice. ‘I’ve been talking to you, but you were miles away.’

  ‘I’m sorry, love, what did you say?’

  ‘I was telling the girls we could go on a picnic. Take some sandwiches and a bottle of lemonade, and find a nice spot where we could watch the sheep and cows grazing.’

  ‘That sounds lovely to me.’ Ann put as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could muster. ‘With a bit of luck we might even find a quiet spot with a stream running nearby.’

 

‹ Prev