A Daughter's Disgrace

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Go on, Nev, just a quick one round the corner won’t hurt.’ Bill nudged him. ‘I’m coming back for the late shift as well so I won’t let them get you drunk. Let your hair down a bit, why don’t yer.’

  As they made their way out into the yard Neville could make out the silhouette of someone waiting at the gates. Before he could say anything Nobby was laughing.

  ‘Look who it is. Someone’s come to pick you up, Nev, to make sure you don’t go off enjoying yourself.’

  ‘Leave it out, Nobby,’ growled Neville. He wondered what was up. If Hazel had come to the factory then there must be something wrong. He hoped his parents hadn’t been taken ill.

  ‘Tell her she’ll have to wait as you’re gonna go down the pub with your mates,’ said Nobby. ‘You don’t want to miss out on your one bit of enjoyment for the weekend. She can see you any time.’

  Hazel was waving frantically.

  ‘I’d better see what she wants,’ said Neville. ‘Sorry, I’ll have that half another time.’

  ‘Ooh, look at him, under the thumb already and not even married,’ jeered Nobby. ‘Gawd knows what he’ll be like once he’s tied the knot. You run along now and keep the little lady company. Don’t mind us.’

  Bill shrugged into his jacket and glanced at his colleague. ‘Stop giving him grief and come down the pub. I’m in a hurry even if you aren’t.’

  Sullenly Nobby turned away. He didn’t hold with the way Neville was always at his girlfriend’s beck and call, even if she was a stunner. She should be taught her place and he wondered if Neville would ever be up for doing that.

  ‘Hazel, what’s the matter?’ Neville said, taking one look at her expression. ‘It’s not Mum, is it? Or Dad? Is everyone all right?’

  ‘No, we bloody aren’t all right,’ she hissed, catching hold of his arm. ‘Your mum and dad are fine, Neville. Don’t get all het up about them. But wait till I tell you what we’ve just found out.’

  ‘What? Don’t keep me guessing if it’s really bad.’

  ‘Not here,’ she said. ‘Wait till we’re out of everyone’s hearing. Then I’ll explain.’ Her jaw was set with fury as she drew him down the street before she gave him the news.

  Alison nearly fell off the wall. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching and in her state of anxiety the shock was enough to make her stumble badly. Fred immediately jumped forward and took her arms, steadying her.

  ‘Get down here,’ he said gruffly. He didn’t know what to say. He’d been convinced she was about to throw herself into the water. He was shaking, realising he’d got to her just in time. Now he had to persuade her to come back to the church path where it was safe. ‘It’s not a long way down, look, I’ll help you.’

  ‘No, no.’ Alison was shaking even more. She’d been so determined to jump, to put an end to it all. How could she get rid of Fred? She didn’t know if she could be so brave again. It was now or never. She had to do it, there was nothing left for her to live for. ‘Leave me alone,’ she whimpered. ‘Let me do what I’ve got to do. It’s the only way. Go home, leave me alone.’

  ‘I won’t do that, Alison.’ Fred drew himself up to his full height. ‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing up there but it’s not right. You could fall and hurt yourself. I can’t let you do that. Come back down here before there’s an accident. Look, step here, on this big stone.’ He tried to keep his voice calm but he felt panic begin to rise. What if she slipped? She was far too tall for him to lift down by force. He glanced around to see if there was anyone nearby to help but there wasn’t.

  ‘No, Fred, I’ve got to do this,’ she cried. ‘Let me go. I don’t want you to stop me. It’s for the best, really it is. You have to believe me. Nobody will miss me and it’s better all round without me. Go away.’

  Fred wanted to cry himself but knew that would be the worst thing to do. ‘I’ll miss you, Alison.’ He tried to make her laugh. ‘I don’t want to train another assistant to cut up kidneys. What if they keep being sick? What’ll I do then? Who will talk to Winnie Jewell?’

  It didn’t work. Alison stared at him as if he was mad then tried to twist away, but couldn’t free herself from his grip. She lost her footing and fell, not into the water but off the wall onto the path, landing on the ground and pulling Fred over as well. Sobbing, she tried to get away, but now he was on the same level he caught hold of her and wouldn’t let go. He was stronger than she’d thought. Slowly she felt the fight ebb out of her. All her resolution of a few moments ago drained away and she collapsed weeping on the ground.

  Once he was sure she wasn’t going to do a runner, Fred dragged himself into a sitting position. He gently patted her shoulder. ‘Come on, get up,’ he said. ‘You can’t stay down there. You’ll get your shirt all filthy.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ she sobbed. ‘What does it matter how I look or what I do? Nobody gives a toss whether I live or die. I want to die. I was going to jump just then. Why didn’t you let me get on with it?’

  ‘You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you,’ he said seriously. ‘You can’t leap into the river when you’re only seventeen. I don’t mind what you’ve done to get to this state, I don’t want to see you die. Come on, I’ll take you home.’

  ‘I can’t go home.’ Alison gave another racking sob. ‘They’ve found out I’m having a baby and thrown me out. I don’t want to see them again anyway. They hate me, always have. I’d rather be dead than live under their roof again.’

  Fred sighed. He supposed they were bound to react like that though he’d hoped for better from Cora. It would be down to the shock of it. ‘They don’t mean it. They’ll be worried where you are. They’ll be a bit surprised by the news, that’s all. Look, I’ll come with you, help explain.’

  Alison laughed bitterly. ‘They won’t be worried, or at least not about me. All they can think of is I’ve ruined their reputation and it’ll spoil the wedding. I tried to tell them … what happened …’ She burst into more tears. ‘It’s not what they think. I didn’t want this, I didn’t have a choice, he forced me and hurt me badly too. They wouldn’t believe me anyway so what’s the point? They won’t believe you either. They think I’ve disgraced them on purpose and they’ll never forgive that.’

  Fred’s heart went out to her, this poor strange girl with her awkward ways and shabby clothes. He pulled her to him and began to rock her, trying to stop her crying. ‘Listen, it’ll be all right. You can’t see the wood for the trees at the moment but things will settle down. They won’t stay angry forever.’ His mind went back to a rainy day at the beginning of March. He’d wondered then what had gone on, especially when she’d shown up with a bruised face after the weekend. Now he blamed himself for not trusting his instincts. He’d known something was badly wrong then but hadn’t wanted to pry. If he’d followed his gut feeling, everything might have been different. She was only a girl; he was meant to be a man of the world, and if anyone was to blame then it was him.

  Fred took a deep breath, and knowing that he had to somehow bring back a sense of normality, he said, ‘Now come on. What you need is a cup of tea. I tell you what we’ll do. You’ll wipe your face and give me a smile. Then we’ll go back to the shop and have a drop of tea and a slice of cake. Things will look brighter by then. You can have a bit of a sit-down upstairs if you like. Listen to the radio for a while. Give everyone time to calm down.’

  Gradually the sobs grew quieter and she was still. ‘All right,’ she said in a muffled voice. ‘I’ll come back to the shop. But I’m not going home. They won’t want me and I don’t want them.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ said Fred, certain that her family couldn’t be so cruel as to refuse her in her hour of need. ‘You don’t have to decide anything now. Just come with me. There you are, up we get. Stretch your legs. Now hold on to me.’

  He offered her his arm and she gave a small smile. ‘I’m too tall, Fred. It’ll look strange.’

  ‘No, you’re exactly right as you are, it’s me who’s too s
hort,’ he said. ‘We don’t care what anyone thinks, do we? Let them think what they like. Good luck to them.’ He started to lead her out of the churchyard, back along the winding old streets to the bottom of Falcon Road.

  Alison suddenly felt so tired she could hardly walk. Everything seemed unreal. She was meant to be dead by now, but here she was, walking through the twisting narrow streets in the early evening sunshine, holding on to her boss’s arm. The bump was still there and she still hurt all over from throwing herself downstairs. This couldn’t be happening. Fred was acting like this was all part of a normal day, rescuing his assistant from killing herself and inviting her back for tea and cake. Whatever was he thinking really? She’d worry about that later. Now she had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, so that she wouldn’t collapse to the ground.

  Fred guided her along, ignoring the suspicious glances some people threw their way, deliberately not reacting when one or two of them nudged their companions. He supposed they would look odd, her so tall and him so short and stocky. It didn’t matter. All he cared about was that Alison hadn’t jumped into the Thames and killed herself and the baby she carried.

  ‘Here we are.’ He unlocked the door beside the one to the shop. ‘We’ll go straight up to the flat. It’s more comfortable there. If we go into the shop someone might see the light on and think we’re still open. You need a good rest, that’s what.’

  He led the way up a steep flight of stairs and she wearily followed. At the top was a corridor and she turned into a room that must have been directly above the shop itself. It was a large living room with two big windows, letting in all the sunshine. She registered that it looked nothing like their living room at home, but didn’t have the energy to work out what was different. There was a big sofa, that was what mattered. She sank onto it and before she knew it she had escaped into sleep.

  ‘Well, how did he take it?’ Cora demanded as soon as Hazel came in. ‘He hasn’t called it all off, has he?’

  Hazel shook her head despondently. ‘No, he wouldn’t do that. He’s sad for me of course. Doesn’t want it to ruin our big day. Anyway I’m glad he heard it from me. Some of those men he works with are right old women when it comes to gossip. He was going down the pub with them between shifts when I met him and one or two were giving me filthy looks. I don’t want them casting aspersions about us, I’ll have a right go at them if I need to.’ She looked around. ‘Any sign of that little tart? Has she dared to show her face?’

  ‘I should think not,’ snapped Cora. ‘I ain’t havin’ her in this place again, dragging us all down to her level. I don’t know where she’s gone but she can stay there, wherever it is.’

  ‘Good riddance.’ Hazel was relieved, thinking that her mother might have softened. She certainly didn’t want Alison back in the house, taking up more and more room as her pregnancy progressed, with all and sundry able to see for themselves what state she was in.

  ‘We’d better let Linda know what’s going on,’ Cora went on. ‘She mustn’t hear it from anyone else either. Heaven knows what she’ll have to say about it. She’s always had a soft spot for your sister but this will make the scales fall from her eyes. It’ll be a horrible shock for her, poor love. She was always so strict with Terry when they were courting, she won’t be able to imagine what her sister was thinking. And Alison was living here while she was carrying on with that useless little toe-rag. The nerve, the bloody nerve.’

  ‘Maybe Linda will ask Alison to live with her,’ Hazel suggested. That at least would keep her out of harm’s way.

  Cora bristled. ‘I wouldn’t have thought so. She won’t want her new friends to see the sort of trouble she’s left behind. Not when she’s worked so hard to better herself. I won’t be suggesting it and don’t you do so either. I’m going to give myself a day to calm down before I write to her as I don’t trust myself to think straight when I’m this het up.’

  Hazel pulled a face. ‘Don’t you think she’d want to help her out?’

  ‘She’d love to help if she could I’m sure,’ said Cora, ‘but it’s a terrible idea. We don’t want June seeing such a shocking example. Bad enough to know it goes on but in her own family! No, she can’t have that. The trollop will have to make her own arrangements and that’s all there is to it.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Fred sat in one of his two new armchairs, the untouched Dundee cake in front of him. Alison had been asleep for two hours. He wondered if he ought to send a message to Cora to let her know her daughter was all right, but he didn’t want to leave in case the girl woke up. He was afraid that if she came to and saw she was alone she might take off again and harm herself. He couldn’t live with himself if that happened. For the time being she was his responsibility and he had to look after her.

  It didn’t mean he had to starve though. He reached out and picked up the knife he’d taken out to cut the cake, and the noise of blade on china made her stir. Slowly she sat up, confused and disoriented.

  Trying for normality again, Fred asked, ‘Do you fancy that slice of cake?’, cutting into it and helping himself to some.

  Alison wasn’t totally sure where she was but Fred seemed to be there so it was probably all right. Groaning then she remembered what had happened. She’d tried to kill herself but had failed. She couldn’t even do that right. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘In my living room above the butcher’s,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, you can stay here till you’re ready to leave. You’ve slept for ages. You must be hungry.’

  Alison realised he was right. She’d had nothing since the half of a ham sandwich hours before. Now there didn’t seem to be any good reason not to eat, as the bump wasn’t a secret any more. ‘Thanks, I’ll have some.’

  ‘Good, you’ll like it,’ Fred beamed, passing her a slice on a delicate plate. ‘Now you’re awake I’m going to get a note to your mum to say where you are. She’ll be concerned.’

  ‘She won’t,’ said Alison. ‘You don’t know her like I do. She won’t care.’

  ‘I’m going to do it anyway,’ said Fred. ‘There’s a young lad who lives opposite who’s always glad of an extra bob to take a message. Many’s a time I’ve thought of a delivery I need after the post has gone and he’s always happy to help. So I’ll ask him. Won’t be a mo.’ Quietly, he slipped out.

  Alison finished her cake, and eating for comfort too now, cut herself some more. She didn’t think he’d mind. As she ate it, she took in the room where she was sitting. Even though she was tired and distressed she was surprised at what it was like.

  The furniture was sparse but looked new. It was obviously not utility, the only modern type she had ever come across. It had spindly legs and shiny surfaces, and there were cushions with very strange shapes printed on the fabric. It all felt a bit empty, as if there had once been more things there but they’d been taken away.

  She puzzled at this new side of Fred. This must have all cost a lot. He was careful with his money in the shop and always happy when they made a good profit but he never seemed to have much more than anyone else she knew. He certainly never said anything about furniture or fashion. She decided she quite liked it but couldn’t understand why he’d got it. Maybe he shared the flat with someone? Did he have a lady friend she didn’t know about? It didn’t seem likely – he could never have kept that a secret from her, as whoever used the flat would have to come and go right by the shop window. She had never given much thought to what the flat upstairs was like but she hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

  The downstairs door banged and Fred’s footsteps echoed on the stairs. ‘That’s all sorted out,’ he wheezed. ‘He’ll go round and if your mum wants to send a message back, she can. If she doesn’t then no harm done. Ah, I see you enjoyed the cake.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Alison looked round. ‘Fred, your living room … it’s not what I thought it would be like.’

  Fred seemed embarrassed, shuffling as he returned to his armchair. ‘The new stuff, you
mean? Do you like it?’

  Alison paused for a moment. ‘Yes. Or at least I think so. I haven’t really seen anything like it. It was just a bit of a surprise.’

  He nodded. ‘When Mother died, I decided to have a good old clear out. We had things she’d got from her parents and grandparents and it was all dark and miserable. This is a big room but you’d never have known it with all that in it. So I thought, Fred my lad, you can make a new start. I haven’t got very far yet. It needs more to make it like a home, but it’s a beginning.’

  Alison nodded. She felt like that about the grim and worn-out items at home. She’d have chucked out the lot if it was up to her – and if she had the cash to get replacements. That wasn’t likely to happen now.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me being here?’ She realised how late it was. ‘Aren’t you going out? Or expecting company? It’s Saturday and I don’t want to be in your way.’

  Fred laughed. ‘No, I’m not going anywhere. I hardly ever do. And I’m not expecting any visitors. So don’t worry.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ Alison thought she was the only single person in London who always stayed in and spent Saturday night on their own, from what her sisters and everyone at the factory said. ‘What about the cinema? You’re always telling me I should see this film or that. You must go out then.’

  ‘Sometimes I do,’ Fred admitted, ‘but not very often. Not at the weekend anyway. People think you’re strange if you’re on your own on a weekend evening.’

  ‘Don’t you have any friends?’ The question was out before Alison realised what she’d said.

  Fred shook his head ruefully. ‘I suppose that makes me seem like a sad old sod but I got out of the habit. I had plenty when I was younger – like your dad, for instance. He was a good lad. We used to go out and get up to all sorts. But then there was the war, and then Mother was ill and needed me around all the time. Before I realised it everyone I used to know was either dead, moved away or stuck at home for one reason or another. Anyway, I’ve got the business to think of. That takes up all my time. Sometimes I’m up here doing the books into the small hours.’