A Daughter's Disgrace

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Don’t think I’m in the market for any new clothes, ’specially not from your place.’ He tried to make light of it. ‘No, we’re doing all right, thanks.’

  Vera looked at him sceptically. ‘Walk into a door, did you?’

  Neville shrugged. ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ said Vera. She could tell when a man was lying to her and Neville was hopeless at it. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him – she had a pretty good idea what had happened to his face. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen such a thing. ‘Don’t suppose you fancy a drink, to help keep the cold out? Be doing me a favour. It isn’t the done thing for a woman to walk into a pub on her own. If I go home now the house will be freezing but if I leave it a while Mum will have got the oven going.’

  Neville looked doubtful. ‘I’m not sure that I should …’ He was tempted though. Suddenly the thought of a warm pub and friendly company was very appealing. He didn’t want to go home to Hazel if she was in one of her moods, and she nearly always was these days. Surely one drink wouldn’t hurt.

  ‘Don’t look so scared, I ain’t forcing you.’ Vera looked heavenwards. ‘I ain’t going to jump you or nothing. It’s only a drink, nothing else. If two old friends can’t go for a drink when they bump into each other, what’s the world coming to?’

  Neville made up his mind. ‘As long as it’s just the one.’ He smiled, or as much as his bruised face would let him. ‘Better make it somewhere with a dark corner I can hide. No sense in parading my accident, after all.’

  Vera beamed. ‘I know just the place.’

  ‘Going to be a busy weekend by the looks of it,’ said Fred as he came upstairs after shutting up the shop at the end of the day. ‘We’ve got your sister Linda and her family coming round. Plus, I just had Winnie Jewell in, telling me I charge too much for my turkeys, and she said Vera hopes to come round too. Says she’s sorry she couldn’t come before but they been working her hard in Arding and Hobbs. To hear Winnie talk you’d think Vera ran the place.’

  Alison turned off the living-room radio; she hadn’t been listening properly anyway. ‘That old boss of hers works her into the ground. She always gave me the evil eye when I went in, like she thought I was going to distract Vera from her business. No wonder she hasn’t had a moment.’ She smiled, glad that her friend was coming to visit. She was looking forward to seeing her friend far more than the thought of seeing her mother again. While she had been relieved that Cora had seemed to warm to the baby, she didn’t really want to have to put up with her carping. Sometimes she still had to pinch herself to believe that she’d got away from her mother’s house, the constant put-downs, her sister’s bullying. She smiled at the thought of how things had changed since she married Fred.

  ‘Well, her boss was probably right,’ said Fred. ‘You did distract her, didn’t you?’

  ‘Not often. And anyway they’ve done all right out of my custom, haven’t they?’ Alison stroked the soft new cardigan that Fred had presented her with after David’s birth. ‘Your custom, I should say.’

  ‘Our custom.’ Fred looked at her happily, glad she liked his gift. The pale grey colour suited her. ‘Now, where’s the boy? How’s he been?’

  Alison looked away, and tried to cover her distaste by picking up a book. ‘Oh, he’s been very good. He’s in his cot. I thought it would be quieter for him in there.’

  Fred nodded, not fooled for a minute. He knew Alison avoided being in the same room as her baby as much as she could. It worried him but he tried to tell himself it was only to be expected. She’d had a frightening birth as well as an exhausting one and even though she’d been up and about for some days now, it must still be affecting her. He knew too that she must relive the attack every time she saw her son, even though she never mentioned it. Even so, he couldn’t wait to see the baby now his work was finished.

  To begin with he’d had a few private worries about how he would cope. It was no small thing to take in another man’s child, especially a man who had treated Alison the way Paul had. He’d been worried it would be a case of like father, like son, but he’d managed to find some books and read up about how bringing up a baby could influence what sort of child it became, and reassured himself that it wasn’t inevitable that the child would turn out bad. Once David had arrived, especially since he’d helped to bring him into the world, he’d been besotted. It wasn’t the little boy’s fault that he’d been conceived the way he had. He was a helpless creature in need of love and Fred was going to make sure he got lots of it.

  ‘I’ll just go and check how he is and then I’ll put the kettle on.’ He could hear some noise as he set off down the corridor, and it grew louder as he got closer to Alison’s room. He opened the door and a full-blooded wail hit him. David was crying as hard as he could, his little face turning red beneath his woolly hat. Fred rushed across to him.

  ‘There, there. Whatever’s the matter? Don’t you worry, I’m here now.’ He reached into the cot and picked up the child, and the smell hit him. The blankets were wet and so was the cotton romper suit. ‘Oh, oh, oh. That’s it, is it? David needs changing. I expect Mummy didn’t hear you with the door shut and the radio on.’ He tried to convince himself this was true as he stripped off the wet clothes and dumped them on the floor, then found a clean nappy. Expertly he set about changing the wriggling baby. ‘No, you stay still. I know, it’s cold, but you’ll feel better soon. Where’s your new suit? Shall we have this one? That’ll be warm, won’t it?’ Gradually the baby calmed as Fred held him in his new clothes, patting his back gently until the crying stopped. Carefully he balanced David on one shoulder as he picked up the dirty clothes and blankets and bundled them into the laundry bag. ‘That’s better. Now let’s go and see Mummy.’

  Alison looked up as they came into the living room, registering that the baby was in a different set of clothes. ‘Did you change him, then?’ She didn’t sound very interested.

  ‘He was sodden, poor little chap.’ Fred tickled the baby’s cheek. ‘I suppose you couldn’t hear him from here?’

  ‘No, I didn’t hear anything,’ she said. ‘He must have just started.’

  Fred shook his head, not really believing her, but reminded himself that she was tired and still getting used to everything. ‘Tell you what, you hold him and give him a feed and I’ll make something to eat.’

  ‘No need.’ Alison got up. ‘I was feeling lots better this afternoon so I did us a casserole. Shall I get you some now?’

  Fred beamed in delight. ‘You must be on the mend! You shouldn’t have, you know I don’t mind cooking. But I’d love some. Maybe in a little while, so I can have a play with the boy. Unless you want to?’

  ‘No, you have him. You’ve been downstairs all day,’ said Alison with relief. The last thing she wanted was to have to play with the baby. That would mean having to look at his face and she still hated doing that. She knew it wasn’t David’s fault, but those eyes bored into her, torturing her with the memory of how he’d been conceived.

  Later that evening, Fred sat at his desk, pleasantly full from the casserole. The baby was settled and Alison had gone to bed early. It looked as if she was getting back to normal, at least as far as cooking was concerned. When it came to the baby he wasn’t so sure. Drawing his account books towards him, he admitted he was anxious. She just didn’t seem to have any affection for the boy at all. Maybe it was all too much, too soon, but how could she not love such a beautiful baby? What if things didn’t improve? He didn’t think she would actually harm David – but then he remembered that summer evening when she’d been prepared to kill herself and the unborn child. He shuddered. No, she wouldn’t go that far now. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to either of them. They were his family, they were his to protect. Somehow he would have to make sure they stayed safe.

  With a sigh of relief he turned the page of his account book and began to enter today’s figures. At least he knew where he was with them.

&
nbsp; Chapter Thirty-Four

  It was Saturday teatime before Vera managed to call round. She arrived windblown but glamorous as ever, raincoat belted tight and lipstick bright red.

  ‘Look at you!’ She rushed to hug her friend. ‘You’re still blooming! Your hair’s all thick and wavy. Mind you, you haven’t been out in that hurricane.’

  ‘I haven’t been out at all,’ admitted Alison, turning up the gas fire and pulling two armchairs closer. ‘But you look like a model with that lipstick. How did you get away with that at work?’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Vera, patting her hair back into place. ‘The dragon won’t let me, so I just use Vaseline for a bit of shine. Anything else and she thinks I’ll steal her boyfriend. So I stuck this on in the loos before I left. Got to keep up standards.’ She gave a huge grin. ‘Go on then, where is he?’

  ‘Fred? He’s still downstairs.’

  ‘I know that, you daft mare. I waved to him. No, the baby. You’re having me on.’

  ‘I’ll fetch him,’ said Alison, forcing herself not to wince. ‘Shall I get you something to drink first?’

  ‘No, I’ll make it, I know where everything is.’

  So with no further excuses left, Alison went to get David from his cradle. It always surprised her that he reacted to her presence, seeming to hear her approach, and how he blurrily fixed his eyes on her face. She smelt him but thankfully he seemed to be fresh – she hated changing him and had had to do so twice that afternoon already, as Fred had been busy in the shop. Dutifully she carried him back to the living room, where Vera had set out two cups of coffee from the percolator that had already been switched on ready for Fred when he came upstairs.

  ‘Look at him! Look at those little hands!’ Vera was cooing over him at once, brushing his face, tickling him. ‘Can I hold him? Sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘No, please do, go ahead,’ said Alison with relief, passing him across.

  ‘Oooh, I’m out of practice, haven’t held one this small since my aunt Beryl’s kids were born.’ Vera shuffled round to support his head. ‘Course, she’s got your sister living next door now … sorry, well, you would know that, wouldn’t you?’ She stopped, seeing the look on her friend’s face. ‘Is everything all right? What have I said? Oh God, I’m so stupid. It’s who lived there before, isn’t it? Why did I open my big mouth? I never think. Really, I didn’t mean to upset you. Don’t take on.’

  Alison gulped and looked away. ‘No, it’s not you. It’s every time I catch sight of his face. It’s not as if I stand much chance of forgetting, is it? He’s the spitting image of his father and I hate it.’ She paused and twisted her hands together. ‘I mean, what sort of mother am I? Everyone says he’s a lovely baby but I can’t see it, I just see … him. It’s like a nightmare, all day every day. I don’t want to hold him or hug him or anything. I just about manage to feed him though I’m going to get him a bottle as soon as I’m up to going out. Then Fred can do it.’ She sank back into her chair, exhausted. ‘You’ll think I’m a monster.’

  ‘No, not at all.’ Vera shook her head, trying not to disturb David. ‘It must be awful. We’re all excited as can be about him and you can’t join in because of how he got here in the first place. It’s sod’s law he looks like his dad. Not much that can be done about that. Is there any of you in him? What about his mouth? His little cheekbones?’

  ‘At least he’ll be better off taking after his dad for looks,’ Alison scowled. ‘It’s a good job you all want to see him because the less I have to do with him the better. Fred loves looking after him, and that makes me feel even worse.’

  ‘Well, he would, wouldn’t he? Fred’s that sort of man.’ Vera jiggled the baby, who gurgled contentedly. ‘Things might change, you know. Lots of new mums feel down in the dumps. I can’t imagine having the responsibility of such a tiny little baby, so don’t be too hard on yourself, that’s typical of you, that is. I’ll come round and help when I can if you like.’

  ‘Would you? Really?’

  ‘Yeah, why not? I like babies. As long as I can hand them back at the end of the day.’ Vera grinned and made silly faces at David. ‘Just don’t ask me to give him a bottle. Drives me mad when they dribble all over your new clothes.’

  ‘If the baby ruins one thing, Fred gets me another,’ Alison said. ‘So I should be the happiest woman alive, shouldn’t I? I sound so ungrateful. He does everything and never complains. But even that makes me nervous.’

  ‘How d’you mean?’ Vera managed to take a sip of coffee while juggling David.

  ‘Well, I keep wondering when he’s going to want something in return.’ Alison flushed with embarrassment. ‘You know. Like we said before I agreed to marry him. I don’t think I could stand it if he touched me.’

  ‘Alison, you’ve not long had a baby,’ Vera pointed out. ‘Fred’s a kind man. He’s not going to drag you into bed. He respects you too much. Stop worrying about something that hasn’t happened.’

  Alison stood up and began to pace in anxiety. ‘But one day he will, won’t he? We’re married. That’s part of the bargain. How will I put up with it? I can’t even think about it.’

  ‘Then don’t,’ said Vera firmly. ‘I know it’s hard, but you have to take things one day at a time. The baby might change in looks as he gets older and Fred’s not the sort to force you to do anything, in bed or out of it. So count your blessings.’

  Alison sat back down. ‘I know. You always talk sense, Vera. Just keep coming round and telling me that.’

  Vera beamed. ‘Try and stop me. This flat is the bee’s knees. One of these days I’m going to have one just like it.’ She sighed. ‘Not sure how though. Oh, by the way, you seen Neville lately?’

  Alison shook her head. ‘No, he and Hazel haven’t been round here at all, not since I moved in. They’re meant to be coming for Sunday lunch tomorrow with Mum, Linda and family so they can all meet David. Well, Mum’s been already but the others haven’t. Can’t see Hazel rushing to congratulate me, can you? Why d’you ask?’

  Vera hesitated, now unsure whether she should go ahead and say what state the man had been in. Then she decided Alison should be forewarned. ‘I happened to meet him after work the other day and he looked in a right state. His face was all bruised. He said it was nothing but to be honest I didn’t believe him. Looked as if he’d been fighting, which took me by surprise.’

  ‘Fighting? Neville?’ Alison didn’t believe it either. ‘He never gets in fights. He just wouldn’t. He’s not like that. Never.’

  Vera sat back, her voice growing cautious. ‘No, that’s what I thought. But still …’

  Alison gazed at her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I felt so sorry for him. He seemed so miserable, I got him to come for a drink. He didn’t say anything, it was more what he didn’t say. It was like he was glad of an excuse not to go home.’

  ‘No, that can’t be right,’ said Alison. ‘Do you mean he was avoiding Hazel? But they’re mad about each other. Doesn’t make sense. Hang on, you don’t mean Hazel had a fight with him? She hit him?’

  ‘He wouldn’t be the first,’ Vera pointed out.

  Alison was having none of it. ‘No, you’ve got that wrong. That wouldn’t happen. She’s been going on about how wonderful he is ever since she met him, she wouldn’t do that. Mind you,’ she raised her eyebrows at her friend, ‘she’d better not find out that he had a drink with you. You’d better watch it if she gets wind of that. You’ll never hear the last of it.’

  As it turned out Alison didn’t get the chance to see the damage for herself as Neville didn’t come on Sunday. Hazel arrived with Cora, full of excuses – he hadn’t felt well, had a bit of a cold, and didn’t want to give it to the baby. Hazel held the real reason close to her chest, somewhat ashamed that her attacks on him were so visible. But what she had learned that day made her even more angry when she got home to the flat.

  Neville had taken advantage of her absence to catch up on sleep he’d missed while working th
e late shift. He was muzzy-headed when he heard the front door slam hard and barely had time to gather his thoughts when Hazel verbally laid into him.

  ‘So what have you been doing with Vera Jewell?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Vera Jewell. You’ve been seen out with her behind my back. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? That tart got her claws into you, has she?’

  Slowly Neville realised that Vera’s private spot for a quiet drink wasn’t as private as they’d thought. Maybe they shouldn’t have been so careful about it as they’d now run headlong into the very thing they’d wanted to avoid.

  ‘It’s nothing like that,’ he protested. ‘I went for a drink with her, just one drink, just once. It was completely by chance. I saw her outside the department store after work and she said she was cold. She said a drink would warm her up but that she couldn’t go into a pub on her own. I felt sorry for her and as I was freezing too I didn’t see the harm in having just one drink with her.’

  ‘You must think I was born yesterday,’ Hazel fumed. ‘I pop out to buy a Sunday newspaper and Ron Small stops me in the street. Ron Small of all people, I ask you. Tells me you was seen hiding away in your cosy little snug with that tart. Could have knocked me down with a feather. I had to make something up on the spot, said I knew all about it. Bet you thought you wouldn’t be found out, didn’t you? Chose the place special, did you?’

  ‘Yes, of course we did,’ Neville snarled back, for once stung by the injustice of it all. ‘Because we knew what you’d be like if you heard about it. And sure enough, here you are. Just like we thought. And all over one little drink.’ He thanked the stars he’d never told her about Vera helping to choose the ring. That would have been the final straw. ‘Seriously, Hazel, one drink. With an old friend. Where’s the harm in that?’