by Kitty Neale
They both fell silent, and as they entered the front room, their gran said, ‘Well now, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.’
‘Hello, Gran,’ Jenny greeted her, Pamela too, while the boys remained quiet.
‘Now Jenny, your gran told me you’re getting married. Have you set a date yet?’
‘Er … yes … November.’
‘Could be a bit chilly, but I’ve got that nice white fur stole. It’ll be good to give it an airing.’
Jenny knew if she told her mother in front of the boys that she wasn’t invited, there’d be an explosion, so kept it to herself for now and asked, ‘Why are you staying here?’
‘’Cos she ain’t got nowhere else to go. No other bugger is stupid enough to put up with her,’ Edith said, then added, ‘Pamela, take the coppers from my dish on my dressing table and take the boys up the newsagent’s to get some sweets. Get a move on ’cos he’ll be closing soon. He only opens to sell the Sunday papers.’
‘Come on, Peter,’ urged Timmy. ‘We can get some flying saucers!’
‘I don’t want to go … I want to stay here with my mummy.’
‘I’ll still be here when you get back,’ their mother told him.
Once Pamela had left with the boys, Edith said, ‘Lizzie, go and make us a cup of tea.’
‘Jenny can make it.’
‘Don’t be so bloody lazy. The girl has only just got here.’
‘Yeah, yeah, all right,’ she said with obvious reluctance as she went to the kitchen.
Jenny was pleased to have a chance to quiz her gran and asked, ‘How long is she staying here for?’
‘Who knows? Not long, I hope. She turned up the other week after that Dwight chucked her out. Apparently, she’d stayed at your father’s for a night, but he don’t want her there, not now he’s got himself a new woman.’
‘A new woman?’ Jenny parroted, shocked.
Lizzie walked back into the room to catch the last part of the conversation and said, ‘That’s right. Did you know your dad has a woman called Audrey living in my house?’
‘No,’ Jenny said, amazed that her mother would refer to it as her house.
‘Quiet little thing, and a bit on the plain side for Henry’s tastes. I felt sorry for her. Your dad wasn’t very nice to her and she didn’t stand up for herself. More fool her. Now then, Jenny. I hear you’re living in a nice house with three bedrooms.’
Jenny instantly knew where the conversation would be going next. ‘Yes, that’s right, though it’s still a bit of a squeeze.’
‘Surely there’s room for one more little one?’
Just as Jenny had expected, her mum was angling to come and stay with them. ‘No, there isn’t, and even if there was I wouldn’t take you in. Gloria told me what Dwight was up to, and that you refused to believe her. She won’t want to see you, and you won’t be invited to my wedding.’
‘You nasty little mare,’ her mother screeched.
‘Shut up, Lizzie,’ Edith ordered. ‘After what’s gone on, I can’t believe you expected an invite.’
‘Bloody hell, all right, Dwight had his eye on Gloria, but he didn’t touch her. If you ask me she made a big fuss about nothing and anyway, I ain’t with him now.’
‘Yeah, but only because he chucked you out,’ Edith remarked.
‘Please,’ Jenny said, ‘Pamela and the boys will be back soon, and I don’t want them to hear us arguing. They’ve seen and heard enough of rows and violence.’
‘Yeah, sorry, love,’ her gran said.
‘Fine. I’m going to the toilet,’ Lizzie said.
As soon as her mother was out of sight, Jenny said, ‘Gran, Craig’s uncle is going to pick you up for the wedding. If Mum’s still here, I hope she doesn’t make it difficult for you.’
‘Whether she’s here or not, I won’t miss your special day. Do you need any help with your dress or flowers?’
‘There’s no need, thanks. I won’t be making a big fuss, and Pamela is dying to help.’
‘All right, love. I doubt you’ll get much help from Gloria. Talking of which, how is she?’
‘She’s busy with Hughie, her new boyfriend,’ Jenny answered.
‘You need toilet rolls,’ her mother said as she walked back into the room.
Edith rolled her eyes and said, ‘I don’t see why. There’s nothing wrong with cut-up squares of newspaper.’
Jenny laughed, then a knock on the door signalled that Pamela was back with the boys, and she was relieved when the atmosphere in the room lightened. It wasn’t going to be easy to drag her brothers away from their mum, and she knew there would be tantrums and questions later. She’d tell them that they might see her again when they came to visit their gran but, knowing her mother, she would soon be off with another man. When that happened, it would probably be months before she turned up again.
‘Hughie, it’s not really nice weather for a drive in the country,’ Gloria complained.
He was taking her to a quiet lovers’ lane that they’d frequented on a couple of occasions. She knew what for, but she’d found making love on the back seat of his Ford Popular to be uncomfortable, though they did have a giggle.
‘We have an alternative that I was going to suggest to you later, but now you’ve brought the subject up …’
‘Oh yes, do tell,’ Gloria said, trying to sound well-spoken.
‘My father has a flat in Holborn which he keeps for when he’s working at the courts, but he very rarely uses it nowadays. If I tell him he needs someone to keep an eye on it, a sort of live-in housekeeper, you could take the job on. That means you could stay there and then I could come and see you whenever I like.’
‘I like the sound of that, but I’m not sure about living in Holborn.’
‘You wait until you see the place, it’s very swanky and you’ll love it.’
‘I’m sure it is, but I don’t know anyone in Holborn and how would I get to work?’
‘You won’t have to. You’d earn a wage as the housekeeper.’
Gloria gazed out of the passenger-side window as she mulled over the idea. She didn’t enjoy working in Queenie’s and had always imagined herself living somewhere up town. ‘OK, I’ll do it, but why can’t you move in with me?’
‘I’m afraid that would be out of the question. My father would never allow me to live there. He has always made it quite clear that if I want my own place I have to find the funds to pay for it. Don’t worry though, I’ll be a frequent visitor – very frequent.’
Gloria was a bit disappointed but felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of living in the flat with Hughie probably turning up every evening. It would be their own little love nest in an upmarket area. It was perfect, and she couldn’t wait to get home to pack her bags. The only fly in the ointment was her sister, but there was no need for Jenny to know the whole truth. She’d just tell her that she’d got a live-in job in Holborn, a step up from Queenie’s, and that might even impress her.
Chapter 22
Craig looked out of the window as he finished making his and Jenny’s sandwiches to take to work. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, and he expected it to rain soon. It had poured for days now, and he hoped the weather would clear before their wedding day. His stomach churned. Every time he thought about their wedding, he felt a rush of excitement and nerves. It was now nearing the end of October, with just over two weeks to wait until he could call Jenny his wife.
The kitchen door flew open as Timmy and Peter rushed in, chattering to each other about school. Pamela followed shortly after them, and then Jenny. Craig looked at her dishevelled hair and loved the thought of soon waking up next to her every morning.
She walked over to him, yawning, and kissed his cheek. ‘Good morning,’ she said chirpily, but then glanced out of the window. ‘Blimey, look at that sky.’
‘Yes, it looks like more rain on the way. There’s tea in the pot and I’ve made you Spam sandwiches.’
‘Spam again … can I have cheese tomorrow?�
�
‘Yes, all right, but I thought it was only Gloria who doesn’t like Spam.’
‘I used to, but I’ve gone off it,’ Jenny said, then frowned. ‘I miss Gloria. I know she’s only been gone a few days, but I hope she comes to see us soon and lets us know how she’s getting on in Holborn. Fancy her living there, who’d have thought it?’
‘You know Gloria. I’m sure she’s fine and living the life of Riley,’ Craig said reassuringly. He spotted Timmy sticking his finger in the jam jar. ‘Oi, I saw that. What have you been told about fingers and jam?’
Timmy hunched his head down. ‘Sorry, Craig, but I was only getting a fly out.’
‘Oh, yeah, so where’s the fly?’
‘It flew away, that’s why they’re called flies. Why ain’t birds called flies too?’
Craig tried not to laugh. The boy was wily, quick with an excuse and a question to distract, but finding he didn’t really have an answer he just said, ‘Birds aren’t insects. Now pour out some milk for you and your brother. Your toast is nearly ready.’
‘Jenny, can I take the boys to see Gran after school?’ Pamela asked.
‘I should think so, but why?’ Jenny asked.
Craig knew Jenny was thankful that her mother hadn’t stayed long at her gran’s. She’d gone off with a bloke, taking a couple of pounds from Edith’s purse with her. Edith hadn’t seemed too worried about the theft. She was just glad to see the back of her, and now things were back to normal.
‘My friend Linda has invited me to hers for tea, so I thought I’d ask Gran to keep an eye on the boys until I pick them up again. I can make sure it’s only for about an hour,’ Pamela answered.
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure Gran won’t mind keeping an eye on those two until I finish work, so you can stay for more than an hour. Tell you what, you can ask Linda if she’d like to come with us on Saturday. I need to go shopping for something to wear for the wedding, and as Gloria isn’t likely to show her face, I could do with your opinions.’
‘Linda would love that! Where are we going shopping? There’s not much around here except that snooty boutique.’
‘I thought we could hop on a bus to Clapham Junction. There’s that big department store, Arding and Hobbs,’ Jenny answered, then said, ‘But don’t tell Craig, ’cos it’s quite expensive in there.’
Craig laughed. ‘I may not be able to hear you, but I can see your lips moving.’ He was pleased to see that Pamela was coming out of her shell again, and she’d stopped wetting the bed too. When her father turned up, Pam’s nerves had caused her to make a few mistakes at Woolworth’s and she’d lost her Saturday job. It was a shame because she’d enjoyed working there. He walked over to Jenny and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You just make sure you get yourself something really nice to wear.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Jenny said, beaming at him.
Craig smiled back. It was a typical Tuesday morning, and, like every day since Jenny had come into his life, he enjoyed each minute of it.
It was nearly lunchtime and though Jenny was hungry, the thought of Spam sandwiches made her stomach heave. She’d gone right off the tinned meat lately, though Spam used to be one of her favourites.
‘I can’t believe you’re not going to have a party or even a drink down the pub after your wedding. I was looking forward to a bit of a knees-up,’ Joan said in her usual loud voice.
‘Yeah, me too,’ said Nora, who sat opposite Joan.
‘Me and all,’ Thelma parroted. The woman had been friendly towards Jenny since Gloria had left Dennis.
At that comment, everyone started laughing, with Nora saying, ‘Oh, do me a favour, Thelma. An invite for tea with the Queen wouldn’t put a smile on your miserable mug, let alone a knees-up in the boozer.’
‘Yeah, well, just ’cos I ain’t smiling like a bleedin’ Cheshire cat don’t mean I ain’t happy,’ Thelma answered as the ash fell from the cigarette in her mouth.
‘I’ve known you all my life, Thelma, and you’ve been miserable since 1934,’ Nora retorted.
The women all laughed again loudly, the sound echoing over the noise of the factory machinery and the heavy hailstones pelting the roof outside.
‘What do you expect? That’s when I married Wally,’ Thelma shouted.
‘You weren’t any happier when he died,’ Joan teased.
‘You never saw me dancing on his grave, but believe me, I did. The day that ’orrible bastard kicked the bucket was the happiest of my life.’
This made the women laugh even louder, but then Miss Aston, their boss, appeared, and they quietened down. ‘Jenny, could I have a word, please, in my office.’
Jenny could feel herself turning bright red and noticed several of the women nudge each other and whisper under their breaths.
As Jenny stood up, Miss Aston said to Joan, ‘And could you come too, please.’
‘Aw, Miss, we was only having a laugh. We’ve been working and ain’t slowed down,’ Joan protested.
‘I have no doubt, but please, come along now, chop chop.’
Jenny and Joan followed Miss Aston. ‘I wonder what this is about,’ Joan whispered.
Jenny had no idea, but as they reached the top of the stairs, she could see two uniformed policemen in Miss Aston’s office. They looked at her gravely when she walked in and her heart began to thump with fear.
‘Jenny, take a seat, dear,’ Miss Aston instructed. ‘Close the door, please, Joan.’
Something had happened, something bad, and Jenny began to shake. When Miss Aston spoke she wanted to put her hands over her ears, or to run out of the office, anything to prevent her from hearing what the policemen were going to say.
‘Jenny, I’m very sorry to tell you that these officers have some awful news for you.’
‘No … oh no,’ she whispered, and her mind raced with terrifying thoughts.
The older policeman spoke first. ‘I’m afraid there’s been an accident in the workshop where your fiancé Craig Brice worked.’
Jenny leaped up and asked frantically, ‘What sort of an accident? Is he all right?’
‘No, Miss, I’m sorry, he isn’t. It appears the weight of the hailstones was too much for the roof to take and it caved in, trapping Mr Brice beneath it. The emergency services were dispatched, but there was nothing anyone could do.’
Jenny saw Miss Aston signal to Joan and the chubby woman responded quickly by rushing to Jenny’s side and putting an arm around her.
Jenny shook her head, muttering, ‘He knew the roof needed replacing … it was old, see … he was going to get it repaired next summer.’
‘Does Mr Brice have any next of kin?’ the younger officer asked.
‘He’s got an uncle … why?’
The policeman cleared his throat before saying, ‘There needs to be a formal identification.’
‘Identification of what?’ Jenny asked.
‘Of Mr Brice’s body,’ he answered uncomfortably.
‘Craig’s body … I don’t understand.’
Again, the policeman cleared his throat. ‘Mr Brice … Craig … he was killed in the accident.’
Jenny felt her breath catch in her throat, and as reality set in she felt a crushing pain engulf her. It was physical, like someone had squeezed all the air out of her. She gasped for breath, but none came. Her chest began to hurt as it got tighter and tighter.
Miss Aston ran from behind her desk and shoved a brown paper bag in front of her. ‘Breathe into this.’
Jenny pushed it away.
‘Do it, Jenny … like this,’ Miss Aston said and held the bag to her lips.
‘I … can’t … breathe,’ Jenny gasped, and held her hands to her chest.
‘It’s the shock, but you’ll be fine in a minute. You just need take a few breaths into this bag.’
Jenny grabbed it from Miss Aston and found that the woman was right. After a few minutes, her breathing became easier, and she crushed the bag in her hands.
‘Is there anyone you’d like
us to call for you?’ Miss Aston asked gently.
Yes, she’d like them to call Craig. He was the person she’d turn to for comfort in bad situations. He was her best friend and the only person she wanted to be with right now. She shook her head, wanting nobody else.
‘Is there anyone at home for you?’
Craig should be there, she thought, waiting there with his arms open to cuddle her and take away her pain. ‘No,’ she managed to gasp.
‘Well, do you have someone in your family you could be with?’ Miss Aston probed.
‘My gran,’ Jenny croaked.
‘Tell us where she lives, and we can take you there,’ the older policeman offered.
Jenny stumbled to her feet and managed to give them her gran’s address. She craved air, wanted to run, to get out of this office.
‘Right, off you go with these policemen, and Jenny, don’t worry about coming back to work until you’re ready.’
Jenny followed the officers, feeling dazed and unwilling to accept what she’d been told. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. The rain was heavy, and they dashed to the car, one of the officers solicitously holding the door open for her. As she sat in the back seat, staring at the rain running down the windows, she felt cocooned, and unable to face the enormity of what had happened, Jenny’s mind closed down. She felt numb now, distant, void of emotion. She didn’t want this feeling to wear off – she wanted to stay like this forever.
Edith saw the police car pull up outside her flat and was flabbergasted when her eldest granddaughter emerged from the back seat. Two policemen got out too. She pulled back the net curtain and noticed the girl’s face was white as a sheet. Worried, she hurried as fast as she could on her sore hips to open the door.
‘What’s happened?’ Edith asked, searching Jenny’s face for answers.
As soon as Jenny saw her gran, her face crumpled. ‘Oh … Gran … it’s Craig … they’re saying he … he’s dead.’
At that moment, Edith felt her heart break. Her poor, poor granddaughter. Jenny fell into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and Edith could feel the girl’s body trembling. ‘That’s it, my girl, you let it out. Come inside,’ she said gently.