A Daughter's Disgrace

by Kitty Neale

  After it was over, she realised she had.

  Terry sat in the cab of his lorry, chewing his thumbnail, staring at the darkening sky. The thing that he’d most feared had finally happened. He’d been approached again by Vincent, and had refused to agree to store any more boxes. He didn’t want to risk upsetting Linda with the baby on the way, and they didn’t need the extra money any longer. It wasn’t worth the risk.

  Vincent had then piled on the pressure, but Terry hadn’t given in. Enough was enough. He’d done what he set out to do. But Vincent hadn’t seen it that way. He hadn’t been violent but he hadn’t needed to be. He simply told Terry that they knew where June went to nursery school and that he might like to reconsider. Then he’d left Terry to think about the implications.

  Deep down Terry had known that it wouldn’t be as easy to walk away from this business as he’d pretended to Linda, but he hadn’t thought they’d stoop so low as to threaten his daughter. The memory of the man who’d disappeared last year came back. Somehow Terry doubted he’d left town of his own accord. He wondered exactly what they’d done to him.

  Sitting here panicking wouldn’t help. He had to think. So, they knew where he used to live but nobody had come to the new house. That was good. He could tell Linda they had to change June’s nursery school – he’d have to find a good reason as she would be onto him immediately to spell out exactly why, but it could be done. They knew where he worked, though. They could easily follow him. He had to hope they hadn’t done so already, but then they’d have had no reason to if they thought they could force him to agree. They didn’t like to waste manpower. So he reckoned they were safe in the house, at least for the time being. He didn’t want to contemplate what it would do to Linda if they had to move again.

  Sweating hard even though the night was cold, he switched on the engine and moved off. He wasn’t going to let this beat him. Nobody would destroy his family.

  ‘Right you are, David, in you go.’ Fred tucked the baby into the new pram and adjusted the hood to keep the chilly breeze off the little face but to allow the boy to look out and his parents to look in. It was the first outing with the pram since the very successful shopping trip, in which they’d also managed to buy more clothes suitable for a three-month-old child and order a new cupboard in which to put them. He’d also treated Alison to a new coat and persuaded her to throw away her old one. He gazed at her in admiration.

  He couldn’t believe it. She’d let him take her to bed – well, to the carpet – and it had all worked out. She’d confessed afterwards how the idea had frightened her for nearly all of their marriage, as she couldn’t bear to endure what Paul had put her through all over again. But he’d shown her it didn’t have to be that way. In spite of himself he felt proud. Those wartime widows had taught him a few things about pleasing a woman and it seemed he hadn’t lost his touch. There was life in the old dog yet.

  This had given him the courage to raise the difficult subject of how Alison was reacting to her son. He’d given her more than enough time to change but there had been little improvement, and it couldn’t be down to exhaustion any longer. He was up in the night more than she was now that David was bottle fed. In fact nearly every time David cried it was Fred who went to him and carried him around until he settled again. He really had to say something.

  At first Alison had denied it but then she caved in. ‘I just don’t seem to be able to love him properly,’ she admitted. ‘I feel awful saying it. I want to love him. I don’t want to be like Mum was with me, I don’t want him to feel he’s unwanted. It’s just that he looks like Paul, and I know it’s not his fault but I keep remembering that night …’

  Fred had gone to her and hugged her, glad that he could now do this without her badly hidden resistance. ‘Of course, of course, that’s only natural. You’ve been to hell and back. You’ve been so brave. But you’re right, none of it is his fault. He needs you, he needs us both. At least you’ve got me to help. Your poor mum had no one. She did her best, but it was all too hard for her. I’ll back you up, you’ll see, I’ll help with everything. Take it one step at a time.’

  Alison had wiped her eyes. ‘It’s better now that I’ve told you. I really don’t want history to repeat itself. I’ve thought for so long that he’d be better off without me that it’s hard to change my mind. I so wanted my mum to love me when I was growing up but she wasn’t interested. I can’t be like that for David. It’s not fair on him.’

  ‘We’ll work at it together,’ Fred had assured her. He hugged her again. ‘That’s my girl. If you put your mind to it you can do anything. I’d put good money on it. And you know how careful I am with my money.’

  Now Alison took his arm as he began to push the pram along Falcon Road. Halfway there, he was wheezing. ‘Must be the smoke in the air,’ he gasped. ‘That or David’s suddenly got heavier.’

  ‘He might have, he drinks enough formula,’ she said. ‘But when was the last time you walked along here? You go everywhere in the car these days.’ She remembered how she’d hurried along here to see Vera after work, even when she was heavily pregnant. ‘You have to do it often enough to get used to it. Then maybe you won’t wheeze so much. Can’t have you getting ill.’ She patted him on the arm.

  ‘No, or everyone’ll think I’m an old man.’ He had to stop and catch hold of the side of the pram. ‘Can’t have that, not in front of David. I’ll have to get fit so his friends don’t laugh at me.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got a while to go then,’ she laughed. ‘But seriously, we should walk him along here every day if we can. It’ll be good for us and for him. The air’s not that smoky, you know. Maybe you should give up the Lucky Strikes as well.’

  Before he could reply, someone had come up beside them and was peering into the pram. ‘Well, so this is the young man,’ said Marian Dalby. ‘He’s very alert, isn’t he? Likes his walks.’

  ‘It’s his first real one,’ explained Alison. ‘We only got the pram yesterday. We thought as long as we wrapped him up he’d be all right.’

  ‘Oh, you can’t beat a bit of fresh air for babies,’ said Marian. ‘My two always loved it. Gets them used to seeing other faces. Well, I must get on, but lovely to meet him at last – and to see you looking so well, my dear.’ She nodded appreciatively at Alison. ‘Marriage suits you! You’re quite transformed. Your mother must be delighted.’ She waved and set off in the opposite direction.

  ‘Blimey,’ said Alison. ‘There must be something in it after all. Mrs Dalby never beats around the bush. Not sure if Mum’s noticed or if she’d care if she had, but all the same.’

  Fred glowed with pleasure. ‘She’s right though. You look like a new woman. And I wonder why that might be?’ His eyes twinkled.

  ‘You’d better make sure you get fitter fast, then,’ said Alison and set off again up the hill.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  There were days when Hazel felt like handing in her notice at the café. She’d been run off her feet all morning, carrying heavy trays of fried breakfasts and bacon sandwiches, for precious little reward. She’d broken a nail trying to get a grater out of an overcrowded drawer in the kitchen. Everyone was complaining that service wasn’t fast enough, even though it was obvious they were full to capacity and short-staffed. Not a word of thanks, even when she gave some of the regulars extra tomatoes or topped up their tea for nothing. There was no pleasing some people.

  Now she slogged through the market, looking for something cheap to eat that evening. She couldn’t remember if Neville was doing another late shift or not and didn’t really care. She’d make enough for two and if he ate it, he ate it. If not she’d have it tomorrow, warmed up. Let him go running back to his mother’s if it wasn’t good enough.

  ‘All right, Hazel?’ called Joe. ‘Give us a smile.’

  Hazel scowled at him. ‘Give me a break. I’ve been smiling all morning and a fat lot of good it’s done me.’ She strode past his stall, buttoning her worn jacket against the biting
wind.

  ‘Someone’s got out of bed the wrong side this morning,’ commented Barry from the stall opposite. ‘What’s got into her?’

  ‘Not like her to be so miserable,’ said Joe, but to be honest he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a bit of a laugh with the young woman. She’d changed over the past few months, her replies getting shorter and sharper until sometimes she didn’t answer at all. It was a far cry from the pretty redhead who’d been so excited about her wedding dress. Now she looked haggard and bad-tempered.

  ‘She won’t be getting any bargains with a face like that,’ Barry predicted. ‘I used to have her down as a bit of a looker but not any more. I pity her husband, coming home to that.’

  Hazel barged past two friends of Kathy who she couldn’t be bothered to speak to. She really didn’t want to hear about her sister-in-law’s new job as a civil servant. She stopped briefly to buy some sausages. She’d do toad-in-the-hole. Then she fancied something sweet after. Damn, she’d run out of sugar, but she could get some at the newsagent’s and maybe her mother would let her have it at cost price.

  She wove her way through the back streets to the corner shop where she could see her mother through the glass of the door.

  Cora looked up in delight as her daughter came in. ‘Well, look who’s blown in. Just finished your morning shift, have you? Come inside and we’ll have a cuppa.’ She turned to fill the kettle.

  ‘It’s freezing out there,’ complained Hazel. ‘You wouldn’t think it’s meant to be spring. I’d love a cuppa. I was down the market and it’s like a wind tunnel. And they all think they’re so funny, with the same old jokes every time you go there. It’s enough to make you want to scream.’

  ‘But they mean well,’ said Cora, who had always got on with the traders and most of the other customers. ‘Where would we be without them? They did us plenty of favours out of the good of their hearts over the years. You know that as well as I do.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean I have to laugh at their tired old nonsense every time,’ said Hazel, gratefully taking her mug. ‘All I want is to go there, buy what I need and go away again. But you try doing that and they get all narky.’

  ‘Biscuit?’ Cora brought out the packet she kept under the counter for herself and special guests. Maybe it would improve Hazel’s temper.

  ‘That reminds me. You couldn’t let me have a bag of sugar at cost, could you?’

  Cora sighed. Her boss didn’t begrudge her this perk but she didn’t like to abuse it. Still, her daughter looked as if she needed something to go right for her today. ‘Yes, go on. Don’t make a habit of it though.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Hazel drank her tea and wondered how soon she could reasonably leave again now she’d got what she came for.

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve seen anything of your sister lately?’ Cora asked, knowing it was unlikely. She realised Hazel was so jealous of Alison’s home that she’d never willingly set foot in it again, and she was hardly going to ask her younger sister round to her place.

  ‘No, thank God.’

  ‘I bumped into her and Fred out with the baby earlier in the week. They bought this flash new pram. Apparently they’ve been out walking with him every day since they got it and I have to say it’s doing them some good. Alison’s finally losing that awful stoop of hers. Makes the world of difference. And of course he’s gone and treated her to a new coat. Blue, bit like the sky ought to be but ain’t.’

  Hazel banged down the mug so hard that tea slopped over the top and onto a pile of newspapers.

  ‘Here, watch it!’ cried Cora, hastily wiping it up with a rag. ‘I got to try to sell them.’

  ‘Honestly, Mum, I come in here for a bit of a chat after a morning like you wouldn’t believe, and all you do is remind me how bloody marvellous Alison is!’ Hazel couldn’t understand her mother’s change of heart. ‘Wasn’t so long ago you said what a disgrace she was, and how she’d never darken your door again. Now it’s Alison-this, Alison-that, with her fancy flat and new clothes and precious baby. Well, I’ve had it up to here with her. She let us down big time and don’t you forget it. Just because she’s got Fred wound around her little finger don’t mean she’s any different deep down. Don’t let her fool you with her new cooker and telephone and God knows what else. She’s still the same old Alison underneath. But if you can’t see it, I’m off.’ She drained what was left of her tea, threw the sugar into her shopping bag and stormed out.

  Cora leant against the counter and watched her go. Hazel had always had a hot temper and usually it was best to let it blow over. She couldn’t help noticing the changes in the girl though. Her skin had lost its bloom and lines were appearing on her forehead and between her brows, as if she was frowning all the time. She slumped as if she had the cares of the world on her shoulders. There was no way anyone would think her the best-looking girl in Battersea now. She couldn’t help but draw the comparison to Alison. The new haircut, the clothes, the improved posture – she was a new woman. She might never be a looker like her sister had been but she wasn’t horse face any longer either. Who’d have thought it?

  ‘I can’t believe you haven’t come down the pub with us once since Christmas.’ Nobby blocked Neville’s path as he tried to leave the factory door. ‘It’s a scandal, that’s what it is. Don’t go saying you’ve gone off our company as I won’t believe you.’

  ‘Out the way, Nobby,’ said Neville. He was tired after a double shift and needed aggro from his temperamental colleague like he needed a hole in the head. ‘We’re saving money, that’s all. I still love you all as much as ever.’ He tried to raise a smile.

  Nobby wasn’t having any of it. ‘You’re always saving money. What for this time? More treats for the little lady? Time you realised you’re entitled to spend some of your hard-earned wages on yourself. You hear me, Nev? Entitled.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ said Neville, getting drawn in against his better judgement. ‘But it’s not the law, is it? I don’t have to spend it on myself if I don’t want to. And I want to save money so we can do up the flat a bit.’

  ‘What sort of ambition is that for a young lad like you?’ Nobby mocked, rubbing his hand over his balding head. ‘Makes my blood boil to hear you come out with crap like that. You’re under the thumb, you are.’

  ‘Under the landlord’s thumb, more like,’ said Neville, but he was angry now. Nobby was an idiot in most ways but he’d got this one right. Maybe he would go for a drink with the lads. It would be more fun than an evening with Hazel.

  ‘What you standing around here for?’ demanded Dennis, breezing through from the workshop. ‘Aren’t you coming out? Even Frank’s coming. Aren’t you, Frank?’

  Frank raised his eyebrows. ‘Someone’s got to keep an eye on you lot. I don’t want the entire morning shift to have hangovers. Besides, Marian’s gone to her mother’s for the evening so she won’t mind me not coming home.’

  ‘She’ll have left you something to heat up though, won’t she?’ asked Bill, always keen to hear about his boss’s wife’s cooking.

  ‘Oh yes, she’s done me a lamb hotpot to warm through,’ Frank said, smiling at the thought of it. ‘Bet Hazel does the same for you when the need arises, Nev?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Neville, remembering how Hazel had slammed down some congealed toad-in-the-hole in front of him only a few days ago, as she snarled something about rude stallholders. ‘Can’t beat home cooking.’ There were times when Neville longed for the comfort of his mother’s kitchen, all the hurly-burly of the conversation and banter as they crowded round the extended table. What a let-down married life had been – and yet it was all his fault. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that if only he’d been a proper man then there would have been no problems.

  ‘Coming with us, then?’ Bill asked, clapping him round the shoulders.

  ‘Yeah, why not,’ Neville said.

  The black van sped away, leaving Terry shaking. Vincent hadn’t accepted it when he’d said he w
as still thinking about the proposal. He’d known Terry was stalling and hadn’t been impressed. He’d delivered his ultimatum: agree to more deliveries by tomorrow or suffer the consequences. Terry knew he wasn’t going to agree, and now he had to face the risk of reprisals.

  He’d already moved June to another nursery. Fate had played into his hands, as an outbreak of whooping cough had swept through the old one. ‘You’re not going near that in your condition,’ he’d said to Linda, breathing a sigh of relief that she hadn’t suspected a thing.

  He’d kept his eyes peeled but had noticed nothing out of the ordinary in the vicinity of the house. He’d taken to going to and coming home from work a different way every day, which often made him late and Linda irritated, but it was worth it. He was vulnerable while he was in the lorry but he’d have to deal with that. He could look after himself – before meeting Linda he’d been in enough fights to feel confident that he’d give anyone a run for their money. It was Linda alone in the house, or just with June, that he was worried about. He thought of finding an excuse to get Cora to come to stay, but then they’d never had her down before, and Linda would smell a rat right away. Besides, Cora might be a liability. He couldn’t really see her being much use if anyone tried to break in – not unless she attacked them with her scathing tongue.

  He’d better make a note of the number plate on Vincent’s van. The vehicle itself was common enough but he wanted to be able to recognise it if it turned up anywhere it shouldn’t. Maybe he could persuade June to start collecting car numbers as some sort of game – but no, at four she wasn’t reliable enough, even though she could count to a hundred. His heart pounded in his chest. If anyone tried to hurt his daughter they would be very sorry.

  ‘You’re missing my point, Nev.’ Nobby had had a few by now and was getting more and more belligerent, poking Neville with his forefinger. ‘You got to get this straight in your head. You are the boss. That’s just how it is. That’s the natural order of things. You don’t mess with that. Go home now and tell her … tell her …’ He swayed and caught hold of the brass rail that ran around the edge of the bar. ‘Tell her who’s boss. Show her if you have to.’