by Kitty Neale
‘Not the threesome I've got in mind.’
Chris was about to ask more when Danny held a finger to his lips. ‘Shush, Yvonne is on her way down. She's usually up at the crack of dawn, but I think I wore her out last night, if you know what I mean.’ He gave a lewd wink.
‘Morning, Yvonne,’ Chris said, eyeing his sister-in-law as she walked into the room. She was wearing a long, pink candlewick dressing gown and looked thin, yet soft with her hair tousled and cheeks flushed.
‘Hello, Chris. Goodness, look at the time. Why didn't you wake me, Danny?’
‘It's only seven thirty and I was just about to, but then again, I was considering coming back to bed for another bit of slap and tickle.’
‘Danny!’ she exclaimed, the blush turning from pink to red before she almost ran into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, ‘I'll get your breakfast going.’
‘I'm off,’ Chris said. ‘I'll see you later.’
Chris went back next door and found that his mother and Pet were up, both sitting at the table with a pot of tea and rack of toast already made.
‘Where have you been?’ Pet asked.
‘I had a word with Danny about the arrangements for today.’
‘Is that all, or did you discuss something else?’
‘Just work,’ Chris said before he sat down at the table, his eyes going to his mother. ‘Are you all right, Mum?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘I expect you're looking forward to Dad coming home.’
‘Yes, I am, but when he does there'll be some changes. I don't want your father to be worried about anything. If he has peace and quiet, he might get better. Petula, there's to be no more loud music, and you, Chris, I don't want to hear any business talk. Is that clear?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. In fact, the more the pair of you stay out of his way, the better.’
Chris saw Pet's look of dismay, and felt the same. Now that his father had been cut down, felled, his mother had become strong. She was shutting him out as always, and from his father too. Well, he wasn't going to stand for that.
Pet was fuming. She had been to see Danny before leaving for school and he had told her in no uncertain terms to keep her nose out of the family business. Danny had never spoken to her like that before, his eyes hard and manner implacable. It was as if, as with George and her father, she was seeing him in a new light.
Since the day that George attacked their father, Pet felt as though everything had changed – that her life would never be the same again. She still didn't know what her family was mixed up in, but from what Chris had said, it was obviously something illegal and dangerous. He'd lost his temper, saying she'd be better off not knowing. Yet that had only made her more determined to discover the truth, and now Pet's jaw jutted with determination.
Yet only moments later, she faltered. Did she really want to know? If it was something really bad, how would she feel? Her father must be the leader, yet how could the man who loved and protected her be a criminal? Maybe it was better to remain in ignorance, to shut her eyes to what went on around her. For the first time in her life, Pet felt truly alone, and with this feeling the last vestige of childhood left her.
Pet reached the school gates, walking in to see first- and second-year kids running around as though they didn't have a care in the world. She felt remote from them, so much older now, and seeing two of her friends lounging against the wall, she traversed the playground to reach them.
Jane's expression lit up, her face animated. ‘Pet, have you heard the news?’
‘What news?’
‘It's Wendy,’ said Susan. ‘She's pregnant.’
Pet gawked, and instantly a face sprang to her mind. ‘Pregnant? Oh, my God. Who's the father? Was it that chap she danced with at the club?’
‘If you mean Tony Thorn, no, it isn't his.’
‘It was some bloke she was seeing on the sly, and her parents are going mad,’ Susan said.
‘Oh, poor Wendy. What is she going to do?’ asked Pet.
‘I think her parents want it adopted, but in the meantime, she isn't coming back to school,’ said Jane. ‘I don't blame her. If I was in her shoes I wouldn't be able to show my face.’
‘But what if she doesn't want it adopted?’
‘Well, Pet, I don't think she's got much choice,’ said Susan. ‘Oh, there's the bell. Come on, we'd better go in. We've got Miss Jones for history and you know what she's like if we're late.’
The three girls walked into the building, Pet's mind still on Wendy. Fourteen and pregnant – how awful. And then to have to have the baby adopted … She would be the talk of the school, the area, her life ruined. Pet knew what it was like to be talked about. All her life she had been shunned because she was a Draper, and her heart went out to poor Wendy Baker.
Danny looked at his watch. It was one o'clock and the film they were making was well underway. He moved over to Chris, saying quietly, ‘I'm going to sort out the girls for our first hard-core film. You and Bob can finish up here.’
Danny left the building. In truth, he was going to the hospital and wanted to get there well ahead of his mother. He was tense as he drove off, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He cared about the old man, but didn't want him back in action. His father had always been the one in control, the one who made all the decisions, and Danny had lost count of the times he had suggested changes, only for his father to veto his ideas. The old man pretended to put them to the vote, but made it clear from the start whether he liked them or not. He was a wily old sod and knew that none of his sons would go against him. The last meeting had proved that.
Things had changed now, Danny thought. He was the one in control and didn't want to give it up. He loved it, but there was always the risk that his father would recover his speech, and if he did, there was no guarantee that he'd leave him in charge. Danny was determined to get through to his father, to make him understand that if he didn't want all his hard work over the years wasted he should leave him in control. Bob and Maurice were too weak, and Chris too young. Things would go to pot if the firm was taken out of his hands, and Danny was determined to tell the old man just that.
When he arrived at the hospital, Danny went to the ward, but as he walked in a nurse held up her hand. ‘It isn't visiting time for another fifteen minutes.’
Danny used his charms, smiling ruefully at the nurse. ‘I'm sorry, love, I must have got the visiting hours wrong. Look, I've had a long drive and I'm anxious to see my father. Surely it won't hurt if you let me in.’
‘All right, but you're lucky. Matron just left and our ward sister is having her lunch.’
‘Thanks, darling,’ Danny said as he moved past the nurse.
His father was at the end of the ward, his bed the last in the row, and as though his father was hard of hearing, Danny shouted, ‘Hello, Dad.’
Dan's reaction was instantaneous. He tried to speak, his good arm waving as he spat out his odd gibberish.
‘It's all right,’ Danny placated. ‘There's nothing to worry about. The business is fine and I'm looking after everything. I'm getting the other stuff we talked about up and running. We'll soon be making a mint and you'll be able to have that house in the country you've always wanted.’
He watched as his father struggled to sit up, the noise he was making now resembling that of a bellowing bull. Moments later something changed and, worried, Danny cried, ‘Dad, Dad, are you all right? Nurse! Nurse!’
The nurse who had tried to bar his entry hurried down the ward. ‘What happened?’ she said as she reached the side of the bed.
Danny struggled to pull himself together. ‘I … I don't know. He just sort of went funny, like he was having a fit.’
‘I'll get the doctor.’
‘Is he gonna be all right?’
‘We'll know when the doctor has had a look at him. Now, please, wait outside,’ the nurse said before closing the curtains around the bed.
Danny didn't need telli
ng twice and almost ran out of the ward. He hovered outside, saw the doctor arrive and then he began to pace. He shouldn't have come. One look at him and his father became apoplectic. Bloody hell, all he'd tried to do was to reassure the old man, but instead he'd made things worse. He'd told him that the business was doing fine, said they'd make a mint producing hard porn … Danny paused, the blood draining from his face. Shit! Had his father thought he was talking about using kids? Oh God, what had he done? What if his father died? He'd have caused it!
Joan smiled when she saw Danny in the corridor, pleased that he had come to visit his father at last.
‘Hello, Danny,’ Yvonne said. ‘I'm surprised to see you here during the day.’
‘Me too,’ Maurice said, obviously puzzled.
‘I had a bit of time to kill, and as I was in the area I thought I'd pop in to see Dad.’
‘Come on, let's go in,’ Joan urged.
‘We can't, Mum.’
‘Why?’ Joan asked, but something in Danny's expression caused her heart to thump with fear. ‘What's wrong?’
‘Dad was taken bad and the doctor's with him.’
‘Bad! When?’
‘It was only a little while ago. I had only been in there for a few minutes when he came over sort of funny.’
‘Oh, Danny, don't tell me he's had another stroke!’
‘I dunno, Mum. We'll have to wait and see what the doctor has to say.’
‘But what brought it on?’
‘Search me. I was just telling him that everything is fine with the business when he had some sort of fit.’
Joan felt her knees give way beneath her, grateful when Yvonne stepped forward to take her arm, saying gently, ‘Come on, Mum, let's find you a seat. Danny will tell one of the nurses where we are.’
In a daze, Joan allowed herself to be led to a waiting room. She found herself silently praying. She knew the others were talking, but their voices washed over her as she begged for Dan's life.
At last the doctor appeared and Joan surged to her feet. ‘How is my husband?’
‘I'm afraid he's had another stroke.’
Joan managed to stay on her feet, but her voice was a croak. ‘Is … is he going to be all right?’
The doctor's face was grave. ‘We'll know more in twenty-four hours.’
‘Can I see him?’
‘For a few minutes and with only one other visitor.’
‘Danny,’ Joan said. She saw her son hesitate; saw the look of fear on his face. He looked so pale but she wasn't surprised. Like her, he was obviously worried sick about his father.
‘No, it's all right. Maurice can go with you.’
‘You're the eldest, Danny,’ she said.
Danny appeared reluctant, but impatiently Joan urged him forward. When they walked into the ward the curtains were still around Dan's bed and for a moment Joan paused, fearful of what she'd find. She then drew in a huge gulp of air before moving forward to draw them back. With Danny just behind her she almost crept inside, her hand immediately going to her mouth in shock. Dan was unconscious, ashen, an oxygen mask covering his mouth.
‘Oh, no. He looks awful.’
Joan turned panic-stricken eyes to her son, but saw a strange expression on his face, almost like one of relief, as he whispered, ‘He's out for the count, Mum. Come on, we don't want to wake him up. You can come back later.’
‘No, I can't leave him.’
Joan took Dan's hand. It felt cold, clammy, and after solicitously tucking it under the blanket, she bent to kiss his forehead.
‘Come on, Mum,’ Danny urged as he gripped her arm.
Joan's lips tightened in anger. Dan was her husband and she wanted to be there when he woke up. She glared at her son, annoyed that he was in such a hurry to go. ‘We've only just got here.’
‘The doctor said we can only stay for a few minutes.’
Joan was about to speak when the curtain was pulled back. ‘I'm sorry, Mrs Draper,’ a nurse said, ‘you really must leave now.’
‘Can't I stay for five minutes?’
It wasn't the nurse who replied, it was Danny. ‘No, Mum, you heard the nurse. We've got to go.’
‘Why are you in such an all-fired hurry? You've hardly looked at your father.’
‘I can't stand to see him like that.’
Joan could see the tension in her son's face and found her anger draining away. He loved his father and, yes, it was obviously breaking his heart to see him like this. She turned away to lean over Dan, her kiss soft above the oxygen mask.
‘Don't leave me, Dan,’ she whispered, her voice cracking. ‘Come back to me.’
‘You can see your husband again this evening,’ the nurse said as she began to take Dan's blood pressure.
Her emotions in turmoil, Joan was only able to nod. Danny took her arm to lead her away from the ward.
‘How is he?’ Maurice asked when they joined the others.
‘He wasn't conscious, so we don't know,’ Danny told him. ‘Now come on, let's get Mum home. She looks worn out and needs to rest before coming back this evening.’
As Danny took over, Joan felt a surge of gratitude. He was a good boy, and as she had said, a chip off the old block. He was taking care of her, just like his father. When Dan regained consciousness and she told him how good Danny had been, he'd be so proud of his eldest son.
It had been a fraught twenty-four hours, but at last Joan received the news she'd been waiting for. Dan would survive. His face looked dreadful, drooping on one side, with the right side of his paralysed body, further weakened. The doctor was doubtful now that Dan would ever make a full recovery. The second stroke had delayed his return home, but he was alive, and to Joan that was all that mattered.
With all her energies focused on her husband, Joan was hardly aware of what went on around her. She left everything to Danny, safe in the knowledge that he would continue to look after the family, and the business.
On Friday, Joan sat beside her husband, gripping his good hand. ‘Hello, love.’
There was no response. None of his usual gibbering, no arm waving and sighing. Joan wiped the drool from the side of his mouth.
Loudly Maurice asked, ‘How are you, Dad?’
‘There's no need to shout,’ Joan snapped. ‘Your father isn't deaf.’
‘I reckon it's a trait in your family,’ the man from the next bed called. ‘Your other son was just as bad, shouting at the poor bloke as though he's deaf.’
Joan was annoyed at the interruption, but puzzled too. ‘What son? I don't know who you mean.’
‘I'm talking about the one who came to see your husband just before he had another stroke.’
‘Oh, you mean Danny. Why was he shouting?’
‘Search me, but your hubby got really agitated when he saw him. Your son tried to calm him down. He told him that he was taking care of the business and there was nothing for him to worry about.’
‘Yes, he's a good lad,’ Joan said.
‘If you ask me, these youngsters are all the same. They think that just because we're old, we've lost our marbles or we're hard of hearing. They forget that we fought for our country during the war. They should give us a bit more respect.’
Joan switched off as the man ranted on and on. Poor Danny, it must have been awful for him to see his father having another stroke.
She leaned forward, her voice soft. ‘Oh, Dan, you'd be so proud of Danny. He makes sure I'm all right, taking care of me just like you did.’
There was a sound, a sort of groan and Joan felt a surge of hope. Dan had responded for the first time since his second stroke, and maybe there'd be other improvements soon.
Chapter Seventeen
It was now August and Danny was putting all his energies into the hard-core films. It was hot, and though the rafters were high, the barn felt stifling.
Danny's face was beaded with sweat, but his mind was set on the task in hand. He didn't want to think about his father – about what he'd done. The g
uilt swamped him, keeping him awake at night, until at last he decided there was only one thing he could do to assuage his guilt. His father hadn't got any better, and he'd been sent home last month, but from what Yvonne had told him, space was short now that he was in a wheelchair. He'd have to make sure they made lots of money, enough to ensure that his father had every comfort – even the house in the country that he'd dreamed of.
He looked through the camera, and as the two men and the girl got into position, he snapped his orders. ‘Bob, check the lighting.’
‘We could do with Maurice.’
‘He's feeling rough today and anyway he's not a lot of help – so stop bloody carping and get on with it.’
Bob scowled but Danny ignored him. Chris came to stand behind the camera, having completed his work on the set, and at last they were ready to roll.
The girl had been told what to do, and when Danny said, ‘Right, get on with it,’ she went into action.
She was one of Lillie's girls and good – very good, Danny saw – but he'd watched some of Garston's films and it would have to be graphic to compete. As he'd instructed, one bloke was taking her from behind, but now it was time to up the action. Danny zoomed in, ready for a close-up of the oral sex. ‘Right, Mary, take the other bloke in your mouth.’
Yes, it was graphic, but they needed more like this in the bag. The worry was getting to him, the responsibility, the need to make money, not for himself now, but for his father. He'd wanted to be in control, to run things, but now all his energies were focused on his old man, on his comfort. Danny knew that he'd caused his father's second stroke, knew it could have killed him, and once again the guilt overwhelmed him.
Late that night, Ivy was fidgeting nervously as she looked out of the window. The kids were tired, but she'd had to keep them up. Steve was chuffed, waiting for the off, as anxious as she was to leave Drapers Alley.
‘I still can't believe we got this council exchange,’ Steve said. ‘It's bloody marvellous. I'd love to be around to see their faces when another family moves into this place.’
‘Yeah, and Danny's when you ain't around to run the bloody yard,’ said Ivy. She had waited until Auntie Joan's lights had gone out, and now regretted sneaking out to stick a note through her door. It would have been more satisfying to have just left without warning, but it was too late now. Mind, she hadn't told her the story about the exchange – just that they were leaving. Ivy smiled happily. There'd be little chance of them finding out where they had gone.
