by Kitty Neale
Alison pulled a face as she turned her back but knew he was right. She’d avoided touching them since her first day and the thought of doing so had got worse and worse. She just had to get on with it. Gingerly she approached the pile of kidneys, shining dark red in the pale morning sun. They wobbled as she lifted the tray. She tried not to look as they shone and jiggled when she carried them towards the scales.
‘That’s it,’ said Fred encouragingly. He’d never had a problem with it himself. Meat was meat – you simply had to accept it came in different colours and textures. He saw a kind of beauty in it, the way you could cut different pieces and use them for different meals. He liked to think nothing was wasted. Now he was keen to pass on his knowledge, but he’d have to get Alison over this hurdle first.
‘Ugh, give me a nice sausage any day,’ she groaned. ‘I don’t mind eating it but this is horrible.’ Still, she managed to weigh out a pound and slide it into a small dish. ‘Right, and the next.’ Slowly she forced herself to work through the whole tray until she had a row of dishes each with its shiny maroon pile. ‘There’s just this bit left over.’
‘Sure you don’t want that for lunch?’
‘You’re joking. I’m never going near it again.’
‘But you did well,’ he said seriously. ‘I know you don’t like it. But you haven’t had to run out the back once. See? You’re getting better at this. On your first day I thought you were going to spend all the time being sick. Now you’re a seasoned professional.’
‘Not quite.’ Alison still couldn’t get used to receiving compliments, even though Fred always commented when she’d done something right. They were a novelty and she wasn’t quite sure what she should say. She was pleased though. A few weeks ago she couldn’t have done it. Fred was good at teaching her and putting her at ease, she realised. It felt good to have learnt something.
Around the middle of the afternoon the door opened and in came Jill Parrot. ‘Hello, Alison! I’d heard you were working here. Oh, what lovely kidneys. Don’t they look delicious? I’ll take enough for a pie for all my lot at home. We’re having a treat as my Lennie got a bonus for all his overtime. Better make it a pound and are those leftovers? Them as well. I don’t know where Neville puts it all.’
Fred nodded in satisfaction as Alison wrapped the parcel and cut some steak too, chatting to Jill all the while. The girl was doing well. She’d got over whatever was bothering her earlier in the week and had the makings of a good assistant yet.
By the time they came to close up for the day, what was left of the early sun had gone and the clouds were threatening again. ‘Typical,’ said Fred, wiping down the counter. ‘Usual weekend weather. You got any plans, Alison?’
‘Not really.’ She was leaning over the counter, trying to see if Paul was winding in the awning next door. ‘Might have to go over to Jill’s if she’s got the patterns for the bridesmaid’s dress.’ There he was. She grabbed her coat. ‘Right, I’ll be off then. Have a good weekend, Fred.’
‘Give my regards to your mother.’
‘I will.’ She hurried through the door and then reminded herself not to be too flustered. Taking a deep breath she sauntered over to where Paul was taking in the last of the boxes. ‘Are you feeling better today, then?’
Paul glanced up and immediately noticed the eager gleam in her eyes.
‘Not too bad. Better than yesterday.’ It was true. He couldn’t have managed the boxes before. He was almost back to normal and he smiled. Time to start the weekend with a bit of fun.
Alison grinned shyly and looked away. ‘I think it’s going to rain.’
‘Of course it will. It’s Friday.’ He pretended to hesitate. ‘Are you walking up the road? Hang on a mo and I’ll come with you. I’ll just leave my overall inside.’
‘All right.’ Alison felt herself blush and wished she didn’t do so every time he spoke to her. As he disappeared through the ironmonger’s door the first few spots began to fall. She turned to glance up at the sky. It was getting darker and darker.
‘Here we are.’ Paul was back, shrugging into his overcoat. She could see it was almost as worn out as her mac. ‘Let’s get away before our bosses call us back.’
‘I don’t think mine would,’ Alison felt bound to say. She didn’t spot Fred at the window of the butcher’s as the pair of them began to head away from the row of shops.
‘Mine definitely would,’ Paul said. ‘He’s mean like that. If he can stop anyone enjoying themselves then he will. It’s how he is. Doesn’t believe in having a good time. Not like me.’ He drew ahead and faced her. ‘What about you? Do you like a good time?’
‘Well, I …’ She wasn’t sure what to say. What did he mean by a good time? A trip to the cinema, or even to a dance hall? Was he about to ask her out? She’d never been dancing but perhaps her luck was turning. She couldn’t read his expression though. The rain began to fall harder.
The pavement began to shine like pewter with all the raindrops. As the rain got harder, the water started to flow down the street, picking up rubbish and carrying it into the gutter. Alison wasn’t sure she wanted to go very far in this weather. She had dreamed about looking her best for Paul and if she was to go on her first trip with a young man, she didn’t want to be soaked through. Her feet began to squelch.
They were passing the entrance to an alleyway, narrow and dark from the tall buildings to either side, but drier than the pavement. ‘Here, let’s shelter.’ He pushed her inside. ‘That’s better. Don’t want to ruin your hair now, do we?’ He caught hold of her straggling hair and tugged her towards him. She gasped. What was he doing? Was this normal? ‘What were we saying about a good time? Are you going to show me a good time?’
‘What … what …’ Alison wasn’t sure about the way this was going. She’d fantasised about getting up close to him but he was hurting her. ‘Hang on, let go, that’s …’
He stopped her by clapping a hand over her mouth. ‘Shut up. No need to talk. Don’t put me off.’ Suddenly his hands were all over her, pawing her, opening her mac, pulling up her skirt, fumbling beneath. She tried to break away but he was too strong. All his frailty of yesterday had gone. She was pinned against the slimy wall of the alley and couldn’t get him off. He was breathing heavily, almost grunting. Then she felt something strange and very painful. He was inside her, pushing, pumping, making her feel as if she was being ripped open. What was he doing? This was nothing like she’d imagined. This was agony. His breath was red hot on her skin. His mouth was on a level with her neck and she hated the sensation. Finally she freed herself enough to scream.
At once he pulled away and slapped her hard. ‘Shut up. I told you. Shut up.’ He fastened his trousers in a hurry. ‘Stupid bitch. What are you screaming for? You’ve been begging for this for weeks. Don’t pretend you haven’t.’ He grabbed her chin and almost spat in her face. ‘Don’t you go saying anything about this. Nobody will believe you. And if they do I’ll say you begged me for it and I did it out of kindness. Look at you. I’m taking pity on you, I am. Who else is going to fuck you? So you just stay quiet. Right, I’m off. Things to do, people to see. And remember to keep that mouth of yours shut. You don’t want to make me angry. I’ll be sure to hear about it if you try to tell anybody.’ And he was gone.
Alison sank to the ground, barely registering that it was covered in stinking rubbish. She trembled with shock. Her face stung, her insides had been torn apart. What had he done? Is this what Hazel had taunted her about, what men did to women? Even though she worked with carcasses all day she didn’t know much about what bodies did. This didn’t feel right. This wasn’t what she wanted. She couldn’t understand how fun, flirty Paul had turned into a monster in the blink of an eye.
Slowly she made herself stand up. She couldn’t stay here, she’d freeze. She tried a few steps to see if she could walk and found that she could, though she didn’t know how she managed it. All the lower pieces of her body felt as if they’d been rearranged.
&nbs
p; Gradually she wandered to the mouth of the alley and out into the rain, where the water fell on her face and cooled it. She did up her mac. One button was missing, but she could mend that. She didn’t know if she could put everything else right. She felt as if all her dreams had been thrown to the filthy ground and trampled on. Her hopes for a romantic future had been based on nothing. She was what she had always been – the ugly sister, the worthless one. She was back where she’d started, only feeling even more stupid for believing her life was changing for the better. As she headed for Ennis Street she resolved to tell them nothing. Not because Paul had threatened her, but because she would never bear the shame.
Chapter Thirteen
‘I still don’t see why you want to let Neville waste money on an engagement ring,’ Cora complained. ‘Thought you weren’t meant to be spending money, and that’s why you’re working all the time. Look at you now, worn to shreds. That’s what happens when you stay out late and get up and do a full shift. Burning the candle at both ends, my girl. Can’t go on like that. And now you’re off gallivanting, wasting money on a ring.’
‘Leave it out, Mum.’ Hazel was too pleased to be really cross. She and Neville had had a lovely evening at the cinema, then they’d gone for a drink and sat in their favourite snug. Tomorrow he would take her round the jewellers. She didn’t care if she was tired. Her mother was just jealous. ‘What’s for tea?’
‘What does it look like?’ Cora could understand that her middle daughter didn’t want anything to do with getting a meal ready after spending all day serving food to other people but it was no excuse for being soft in the head. ‘If it looks like a pie and smells like a pie, odds are it’s a pie. Although if your sister had come home on time and brought us something like she ought to, we could have had a better one. Still, it’ll be good enough if I say so myself.’
‘I’m sure it will.’ There was no sense in Hazel winding up her mother, or she might get dragged into helping in the kitchen. She could do without that. ‘I’m going to wash my hair if dinner’s not ready yet. I want to look my best for tomorrow.’ She made her way out of the kitchen just as the front door opened and Alison walked in. She was drenched.
‘Don’t just stand there dripping all over the place, you great drowned rat.’ Cora sighed in exasperation. ‘Get that coat off and bung it in front of the fire. Here, you lost a button?’
‘Maybe,’ gasped Alison. It hurt to talk where she’d been hit but she wasn’t going to admit that.
‘Clumsy as ever. Hang about, what’ve you done to your face?’
‘Slipped on a wet bit of pavement,’ Alison lied. It sounded plausible on a night like this.
‘Careless as well as clumsy. Hope you haven’t torn your clothes.’ Cora turned away from the sight of her youngest, hair hanging down and water falling off the ends, with her hangdog face soaking wet. It was enough to drive anyone to despair. ‘You brought home anything from Fred to keep us going over the weekend?’
‘No, sorry, we were flat out all day and ran out of nearly everything.’ Alison turned to go upstairs.
‘Bloody marvellous,’ Cora snapped. ‘now I’ll have to go to the market to get a bit of meat for our Sunday roast.’
Alison shut her eyes briefly to cope with the pain in her throbbing face. At least this would give her mother something else to complain about. All her survival instincts screamed at her to try to carry on as normal and so even though she wasn’t hungry she said, ‘Is that pie for tea?’
‘Yes. I been slaving away ever since I got back from the newsagent’s. It’s steak and kidney.’
With a hand over her mouth Alison ran up the stairs.
As soon as Neville came into the café on Saturday afternoon, Hazel was ready to go. She’d hung up her apron early and was all set to leave as soon as she saw him. He barely had time to wave to her boss before she dragged him out of the door.
‘I want to show you something,’ she explained.
‘Steady on, Hazel, what’s the hurry?’ Neville was still feeling hung-over from the night before. His mates had made sure he stayed for the whole evening, plying him with pints and then with shots of whisky, which he wasn’t used to. At least he hadn’t had to buy anything, but he didn’t know how he managed to get up in time for the morning shift. Now the last thing he wanted to do was to be dragged around the jeweller’s shops. But he knew he couldn’t back out. Hazel would never forgive him. Her heart was set on this and, whether they could really afford to or not, he had to keep her happy.
‘I don’t want them to start packing up.’
‘Who?’
‘The market stalls. You’re going to love this.’
Neville very much doubted it but didn’t have much choice. Hazel was forging ahead like a galleon in full sail, sweeping him alongside her. He wondered what could be so urgent, as he tried to keep up.
‘Here we are,’ she said as they reached the market. Some traders were already shutting down as the flow of customers had started to dry up, but Joe Philpott’s bolts of material were still all on display. ‘Hello, Joe. See, I told you I’d bring him along.’ She nudged Neville. ‘Joe’s got something special for us. Haven’t you, Joe?’
‘I surely have,’ said the big man, noticing that Neville was much less keen than Hazel though he was doing his best to hide it. ‘Some lovely taffeta for your bridesmaids. It’s a shade that will set your hair off perfect, Hazel. Not quite blue and not quite green. Sort of turquoise. There. What d’you think?’
Hazel turned to Neville in great excitement. ‘Isn’t it the bee’s knees? Your Kathy will look fabulous in that and so will Linda. Even Alison might not be too bad. I’ll get the exact lengths off your mum and pick it up on Monday, as long as you’re happy.’
‘I’m happy,’ Neville assured her. He was glad she was pleased even if he couldn’t see what the fuss was about. At least it wouldn’t cost them an arm and a leg.
‘And there’s more,’ Hazel went on, excited that she was getting what she wanted, even if it wasn’t quite the expensive dress she’d first dreamed of. ‘Show him, Joe.’
Joe reached underneath the stall and emerged with another bolt of material, this time white and lacy. ‘Only got this one lot left, so you’ll need to make up your mind.’
Some of the neighbouring traders had come to a stop and were looking on. Neville wasn’t sure what he was meant to say. ‘It’s very nice … It’s lovely,’ he added, catching Hazel’s eye. Then it dawned on him. ‘You’d look like a real princess in that, Hazel. This is for your dress, isn’t it?’
‘As long as your mum can make it from this amount of material,’ she said anxiously. ‘It’ll be touch and go. But it’s just what I’ve been dreaming of. I’ve kept an eye out for ages and there hasn’t been anything as good as this.’
‘If anyone can do it, my mum can,’ Neville assured her. He felt his spirits rise. His gorgeous Hazel was going to get the dress that she wanted after all. ‘Why don’t you bring her along on Monday? She’d love to help out and make sure you buy enough stuff.’
‘Will you set it aside until then, Joe?’ asked Hazel. She wanted to cry, it was all working out so well.
Joe nodded, packing the precious material safely away under the stall. ‘It’ll be my pleasure.’
‘And now we’re off to look for the ring,’ Hazel announced.
‘Good luck then,’ said Joe and some of the other traders nodded. Neville could see they all thought the world of Hazel and wanted her to have the best. He felt his heart swelling in his chest.
‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘Only the best for my princess.’
Hazel had never been so happy.
On Monday morning Cora was at the counter as usual, glad of a sit-down. She was relieved to get back to work after the weekend. Hazel had been impossible, all excited about finding her material and Neville taking her shopping for the blasted engagement ring. Cora wanted her daughter to be happy but still couldn’t see the point of extravagance. In the event they hadn
’t come home with anything but Neville had been hinting heavily that Hazel was to expect a surprise. She’ll have a surprise when she sees what sort of a place they’d be living in on his pay packet, Cora thought darkly. He was a nice enough lad but he lacked ambition and had no real get up and go to him. His sister was different – she could see that girl going far. But Neville? She doubted it.
‘Cora!’ It was Winnie. ‘Thank God you aren’t busy.’
‘I only just sat down,’ Cora said.
‘I’ve got to tell someone. You’ll never guess.’
‘Go on.’ Cora could see there would be no stopping the woman.
‘It’s Beryl’s neighbours. They was shouting and fighting all last week and she nearly called the police on them. She wouldn’t normally want no bother but it was that bad, she was at her wits’ end. Then yesterday it all went quiet and she thought they was sleeping it off. First thing this morning the landlord’s banging on her door and she hasn’t seen him round their place for months. Wouldn’t usually get his hands dirty but soon as it looked like he might lose money he was round like a shot.’
‘Lose money?’
‘Yes. They’ve only gone and done a bunk. No sign of any of them. But the state they left the place in! He won’t be able to get anyone else in there for I don’t know how long. It’s filthy, there are holes in the walls, and just like I said, there’s rats all over. How they lived like that I don’t know. Those Lannings are a disgrace. So now nobody knows where they’ve gone. The landlord had the cheek to ask Beryl if she knew. She said to him, do I look like the sort of person who would associate with the likes of them? So he’s none the wiser.’
‘And it was gambling, you said?’ Cora needed to get all the details straight.
