A Mother's Duty

by June Francis

  As he re-entered the Arcadia he considered that if it hadn’t been for the big fella’s relative arriving they would have almost had the place to themselves. He thought of Celia for a moment and experienced a familiar ache, which had eased during the time he had avoided her, but which was now making itself felt once more. He decided he would carry on avoiding her whatever his mother and stepfather might think.

  They reappeared an hour later but John only lingered to dump the shopping in the kitchen before going out again. ‘Make us a cup of tea, love,’ said Kitty.

  Mick put on the kettle. ‘What’s happening, Ma? Is his niece coming to stay?’

  ‘Probably.’ She yawned. ‘We’ll eat in the dining room. Put a couple of tables together. I was going to do shepherd’s pie but it’ll have to be something a bit more fancy now.’

  ‘Your shepherd’s pie’s nice,’ said Ben, leaning against her knee. ‘Ma, what about the pictures? Will we be able to go?’

  She put an arm around him and rested her cheek against his hair. ‘I don’t think so. Not if we’ve got a visitor.’

  ‘She might like to come.’

  Kitty smiled. ‘To see King of the Jungle? I doubt it, son.’ She got to her feet and began to unpack the shopping.

  John arrived back a few hours later in a taxi with a woman whose black coat was made less severe by the addition of a red hat, gloves and scarf. She had a round smiling face and her hair was brown with a few silver strands. ‘Kit, this is my niece Nancy Higson,’ said John, smiling.

  ‘Hello, Kitty!’ Nancy held out a hand. ‘It seems ridiculous that I’m his niece, doesn’t it? It’s good to meet you and real nice of you to offer to put me up. As I’ve got nobody left now Pop’s gone I thought I’d make the trip.’

  Kitty returned Nancy’s infectious smile. ‘You’re welcome. Is your husband—?’

  ‘Dead. Damn war.’ She smiled at the boys. ‘These yours? I never had any kids myself. It was a real grief to me but there it is.’

  Kitty introduced Mick and Ben who shook hands politely. She told Mick to ask Celia to make tea and bring in the sandwiches and cakes and to tell her that when she had finished could she ask Hannah to make up another bed. Reluctantly Mick went to do as he was told.

  He found Celia in the bedroom vacated by the sisters from Todmorton. ‘Ma wants you to make tea for four and bring in some cakes.’

  ‘OK.’ Celia did not look up but carried on polishing the tallboy.

  ‘Now,’ said Mick loudly.

  She dropped the duster on the floor and brushed past him with her nose in the air.

  Mick felt a little better. He had not forgotten what she had said about his getting away with things because his mother was the boss.

  When he arrived downstairs Ben was hanging around in the hall with Teddy, who had a smear of oil across his chin. Ben pounced on Mick. ‘What are we going to do about the pictures?’

  ‘I don’t see how there’s anything we can do. Unless—’ He glanced at Teddy. ‘How much have you got?’

  ‘Sixpence. I’ve spent up … bought Ma some chocs in a rather nice box.’

  ‘That’s it then.’ Mick sighed as he emptied his pockets and gazed at his threppence tip and the key on the palm of his hand. ‘We haven’t got enough.’

  ‘Perhaps Ma would give us the extra?’ said Ben, scuffing his feet against the bottom of the chiffonier.

  Mick shook his head. ‘She’s too busy with the visitor to be bothered about us going the pictures.’

  ‘So that means we don’t go and all because of his blinking relatives,’ muttered Teddy, looking fed up.

  ‘One relative,’ said Mick, fingering the key now back in his pocket. ‘There’s money in the cash box.’

  His brothers stared at him. ‘We could borrow five shillings,’ said Teddy. ‘If we go now we’ll make first house and we won’t really be missed ’cos we’ll be back for dinner.’

  Mick hesitated. ‘I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Then why say it?’ demanded Teddy. ‘We can pay it back can’t we?’

  ‘Yep, but – I’m not so sure if we should take money without asking.’

  ‘You want to see the film, don’t you?’ hissed Teddy. ‘And they’re taking no notice of us.’

  ‘Of course!’ Before he could change his mind Mick went over to the chiffonier.

  He was just putting the box back when Celia came out of the Smoking Room. They started at each other and he felt himself flushing. He shut and locked the cupboard door swiftly and, without looking at her again, joined his brothers and left the hotel.

  The boys enjoyed the films but they had no sooner come through the front door than John came out of the dining room and confronted them. ‘Have you three been to the pictures?’

  ‘Yes! Is there anything wrong with that?’ said Mick. ‘We’re not late for dinner.’

  ‘No, you’re not late for dinner but we couldn’t find the key to the cash box and we wanted to get some drink but had no money because we had spent up.’

  Mick reddened and took the key from his pocket. ‘Sorry. I didn’t think.’

  John smiled. ‘That’s OK. You’d all best get changed.’

  The brothers were halfway upstairs when Mick remembered about the money he had taken and wished it was his mother who had asked for the key. He hurried downstairs to find John counting the money. His stepfather did not look up as Mick placed a hand on the edge of the chiffonier, feeling dreadfully nervous. Celia came along the passageway, carrying a laden tray. Mick cleared his throat. ‘I borrowed five shillings,’ he said huskily.

  John looked up. ‘Borrowed?’

  ‘Yes! Borrowed!’ Mick was aware that Celia had paused in front of the dining-room door. ‘Ben really wanted to see that film and we didn’t have enough money.’

  ‘You should have asked.’

  Mick’s face went red. ‘I know! But you were busy and so was Ma. It was difficult.’

  ‘I’m sure it was.’

  ‘It was!’ Mick’s voice had risen. He was convinced his stepfather was being sarcastic at his expense. ‘It’s not as if I was stealing! I mean I wouldn’t have done it if you’d still been taking us to the flicks.’

  ‘You’ve no cause to blame me,’ said John mildly. ‘What was I supposed to do, Mick, dump my niece to please you?’

  ‘No! But – hell! You could have thought of giving us the money. It’s not often you give us anything.’

  ‘It isn’t is it? Do you believe I should?’

  ‘No, well! I don’t know if you’ve got any of that money left that your uncle left you. You could be hard up again for all I know.’

  John looked amused. ‘Forget it, Mick. And forget the five shillings.’

  ‘No! I’ll pay it back. It’s Ma’s money after all. This is her hotel,’ said Mick crossly, and turning away he ran upstairs.

  As he changed he wondered at his temerity in saying what he had. Would there be repercussions?

  Mick avoided looking John’s way as he entered the dining room but was conscious of him nevertheless. Somehow this evening his stepfather’s presence seemed to fill the room as he amused his niece and wife with tales of his travels. Mick wondered at him and felt a reluctant admiration, considering how he would have been ashamed to have admitted to tramping the length of Britain and busking in its streets, but the women hung on John’s every word.

  Mick decided to admit to his mother about borrowing the money and managed to gain her attention for a few moments when the table was being cleared.

  She shook her head at him. ‘You should have asked.’

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘He?’

  ‘The big fella!’

  Kitty sighed. ‘Why can’t you call him Dad?’

  ‘Because he’s not my dad.’ Mick frowned. ‘Anyway I’ll work the debt off.’

  ‘Did you tell your stepfather that?’

  ‘He said I could keep the five bob but I didn’t think it was his to give. This is your hotel, Ma.’ />
  She stared at him. ‘You didn’t say that to him, did you?’ Colour rose in Mick’s cheeks and he was silent. ‘You did! Oh Mick,’ she groaned. ‘How could you be so thoughtless? He has his pride you know, and he’s put money into this hotel.’

  ‘I’m sorry!’ His tone was stiff. ‘I thought I was speaking the truth.’

  ‘What does it matter whether you were speaking the truth or not? It’s his feelings that matter.’ She clicked her tongue against her teeth. ‘I feel real cross with you. Now go away!’ She shooed him with her hands and he had no option but to leave.

  Mick walked out of the room. It was seldom his mother got angry with him and he felt a surge of emotion and an unmanly desire to burst into tears. It wasn’t his fault if the big fella couldn’t take the truth. He should have kept his promise and taken them to the pictures, even if it meant insisting that the women went too. He was really fed up and not at all in the mood for company.

  He went upstairs and sat in the cold bedroom, contemplating leaving home as soon as he left school. He had thought of doing something to do with calligraphy. He wouldn’t mind drawing maps or signs for shops but how did he go about that? He supposed he could find out.

  There came a tap on the door. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Celia. Can I have a word?’

  He was so relieved that it was not the big fella he sprang off the bed and opened the door. ‘One word or two or three?’ he said jocularly.

  ‘I wondered if this would help?’ She held out an envelope.

  He stretched out a hand and took it and felt coins through the paper. He handed it back. ‘Thanks but no thanks. I can’t take your money. And you shouldn’t eavesdrop.’

  ‘Why can’t you take my money?’

  ‘I don’t take money from girls.’

  ‘You take it from your mother.’

  ‘That’s different. I earn it and I’ll pay it back the same way. Anyway what made you change your mind about working here?’

  She leaned against the wall. ‘It’s only for two weeks and it beats going home.’

  ‘So you’re not permanent.’

  ‘I said I was only here for two weeks, didn’t I?’

  He smiled. ‘So you did. So I’d best make good use of you. I’ll have a cup of tea and you can bring it up here.’ He closed the door and was aware of an unexpected sense of wellbeing. Perhaps Christmas wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Wow-wee!’ exclaimed Ben, leaping off the bed and causing sweets, fruit, a jigsaw, a printing set and several toy soldiers to slide to the floor. He pranced around the tricycle wrapped in brown paper which stood on the linoleum before tearing off the paper and chanting, ‘A bike, a bike, I’ve got a bike!’

  ‘Shut up, Ben,’ groaned Mick but Teddy sat up and rubbed his eyes. ‘He has. He’s got a bike!’

  ‘What!’ Mick lifted drooping eyelids. He watched Ben a moment before exchanging looks with Teddy, who said in disgust. ‘Spoilt! He’s spoilt rotten. We never got a present anywhere near as good as that!’

  ‘You can have a go on it,’ said Ben generously. ‘As long as you don’t break it and get off when I tell you.’ He glanced anxiously at Teddy. ‘Aren’t you going to open your present?’

  ‘What present? Father Christmas doesn’t visit us,’ said Teddy.

  ‘There’s something on your bed!’

  Teddy and Mick both peered through the grey morning light and saw that Ben was right. There were four parcels. One was long and narrow and lay alongside a small square one on Teddy’s side of the bed. The other two were rectangular and oblong and were on Mick’s side. They reached out and untied labels which read Love Ma and Dad. They pulled faces at each other and tore off green tissue paper. Teddy’s presents were a rod, reel and the rest of the paraphernalia needed to go fishing. Mick’s were a box of calligraphy pens, nibs, bottles of different coloured ink and a good quality drawing pad.

  ‘Damn!’ said Teddy savagely.

  ‘Ditto,’ said Mick, gently fingering a nib. ‘The big fella must have helped pay for these. Ma wouldn’t have had the money and she wouldn’t have known what to choose and where to go for them either.’

  ‘Yeah! We’ll have to bloody thank him.’ drawled Teddy.

  ‘You can send him a letter up the chimney,’ said Ben who had only caught part of the conversation.

  Mick smiled but said nothing, only lying flat on his back with the box of pens clutched to his chest.

  ‘You’re a dope,’ said Teddy, grinning at Ben. ‘Father Christmas isn’t going to have time to collect a billion letters. He’ll be beddy-byes at the North Pole by now. Besides it’s Ma and the big fella who bought you the bike and us these things.’ He slid from beneath the covers and shivered as he stood on the cold linoleum. ‘Let’s see you ride it then.’

  Ben did not need telling twice. He climbed onto the tricycle and ding-a-linged the bell before pushing the pedals with his bare feet. He narrowly avoiding crashing into a chest of drawers.

  Teddy laughed. ‘Here let me have a go?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Ben, straightening the handlebars.

  ‘I can show you how.’

  ‘No! It’s mine.’

  Teddy seized the handlebars and Ben yelled, ‘Let go!’ and attempted to push his hand away.

  ‘Leave him alone, Ted, or you’ll have Ma and the big fella in,’ said Mick. ‘Play with your fishing rod.’

  ‘It’s not a toy.’ Teddy frowned but picked up the box with the reel in and began to read the instruction leaflet inside.

  He had attached the reel to the rod and had almost finished threading line through the rod’s metal hoops when Kitty popped her head round the door. ‘Everybody happy?’ She brought in a pitcher of steaming water.

  Ben climbed down from the tricycle and threw his arms round her waist. ‘Thanks, Ma!’ He pressed his head against her stomach. ‘It’s a beautiful bike.’

  ‘Careful! You don’t want to—’ She stopped abruptly and smoothed his ruffled hair before moving away to pour the water into the bowl in the washstand. She looked at her elder sons. ‘And what about you two? Are you happy?’

  ‘Yeah, fine,’ said Teddy. ‘Thanks, Ma.’ He waved the fishing rod, which wobbled at its narrow end.

  ‘And you, Mick?’

  He flushed, ‘I never expected such a good present. You shouldn’t have spent so much money.’

  ‘But you’re pleased with it?’ she said anxiously.

  ‘Of course! I can’t wait to use them. Thanks, Ma.’

  ‘You won’t forget to thank—’

  ‘Dad,’ muttered Teddy.

  She glanced at him. ‘Would it be so difficult to say?’

  He was silent. Mick said, ‘Does he want us to call him Dad?’

  ‘I thought it would be nice,’ said Kitty, sitting sideways on the bed. ‘It would make us sound like a proper family.’

  ‘Couldn’t we call him Pops?’ asked Ben, climbing back on the tricycle. ‘A girl at school calls her dad Pops.’

  ‘But he’s not our dad,’ said Mick.

  There was a silence and Kitty felt frustrated.

  ‘I’m going to call him Pops,’ said Ben and rode between the beds twice. ‘I’ll say “Thanks, Pops, for my bike”.’

  ‘You can! You’re younger,’ muttered Mick. ‘You don’t remember Dad the same as I do.’

  There was another silence which was broken by the sound of footsteps. John knocked on the open door before entering.

  ‘Thanks, Pops, for my bike,’ said Ben, missing John’s toes by half an inch as he rode past him.

  ‘Yeah, thanks for the present,’ said Teddy, and his smile flashed briefly.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Mick, hugging his knees. ‘It’s – it’s just what I would have chosen myself – if I’d had the money.’

  ‘Glad you’re all happy.’ John slipped his hands in his trouser pockets and smiled. ‘Shall we all go down for breakfast? You’ve ten minutes to have a quick lick and get dre
ssed. Hannah and your mother have been up for the last hour. Food’s ready and Nancy’s waiting.’

  ‘What about Celia?’ asked Mick.

  ‘I went with her late last night to her mother’s,’ said John. ‘She’ll be back tomorrow morning.’

  ‘So you don’t have to worry about her,’ said Kitty, although she was worried herself after what she’d seen and heard of the woman, but a girl owed a duty to her mother. ‘Now move yourselves or we’ll eat yours.’

  ‘One of my earliest memories before we went to Canada,’ said Nancy, spreading Tate and Lyle’s golden syrup on a slice of toast and smiling round at the family, ‘was of pushing a dolly’s pram along the front at Brighton after dinner on Christmas afternoon. It was before the war, of course, when women used to wear those huge hats with feathers and flowers, and skirts down to their ankles.’

  ‘Mother often used to take me into Brighton,’ said John. ‘And we always had to look at the Royal Pavilion. It was like something out of the National Geographic with its onion-shaped domes and ornamental plaster work. I never forgot what it looked like all my years away. I didn’t realise until I returned there that Mother was crazy about Prinny and anything Regency.’

  ‘Who’s Prinny?’ asked Kitty, enjoying this new insight into her husband’s past.

  ‘The Prince Regent, of course,’ said Nancy, signalling Hannah to fill her teacup.

  ‘King George IV to be,’ explained John. ‘Queen Victoria’s uncle. He spent a fortune on the Pavilion and was in debt for thousands of pounds. During the war part of it was used as a hospital for Indian soldiers. It had nine kitchens so it could cater for the tastes of the different castes.’

  ‘I didn’t know that!’ said Nancy.

  ‘Why should you?’ said John, glancing at Kitty and smiling before giving his attention once more to his niece. ‘You were a Canadian by then.’

  Nancy sighed. ‘It seems a long time ago in some ways and yet in another it’s like yesterday. I must see the Pavilion when I visit your sister. I should also visit Great-Grandfather.’