by Kitty Neale
‘I’ve got a space hopper!’ Timmy said with equal enthusiasm.
As more presents were opened, Pamela began to pick up the discarded wrapping paper, then their dad moved closer and offered to help Peter set up the racing track for his new electric cars.
Gloria opened her gifts but didn’t appear enthralled. Jenny thought the gifts were probably quite trivial compared to what her sister had been used to receiving from Hughie. Within ten minutes, all the presents had been opened, and apart from Gloria everyone seemed extremely pleased. Even their father liked his flat cap and braces.
Jenny left her family in the front room and went through to the kitchen. Pamela had offered to peel the potatoes today and Gloria said she’d get the Brussels sprouts and carrots ready. That only left the turkey to cook. Their dad had brought it home last night and Jenny had gasped when she’d seen the size of it. She wasn’t sure it would fit in the oven. There was enough to feed a small army and she thought it a shame that their gran wouldn’t come for Christmas lunch. Their dad had offered to collect her, but Edith had told Jenny that she’d rather stick pins in her eyes than sit around the same table as him. Instead, Jenny promised to bring the children to see her this morning.
‘Erm …’ Jenny heard her dad behind her and turned to face him. He looked unusually sheepish.
‘I’ve got you this …’ he said and pulled a small gift box from his trouser pocket.
Jenny took the box but didn’t know what to say.
‘Open it then,’ her dad urged.
She lifted the lid and gasped when she saw a heart-shaped pendent decorated with small pink stones, on a fine gold chain.
‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart,’ her dad said quietly.
‘It’s beautiful, thank you,’ she said softly. Her dad had never given her a gift before. He’d always left it to their mum, and she wondered now if this was his way of saying sorry for what he’d done to her.
‘Ain’t you gonna put it on?’
Jenny’s hands shook as she fiddled with the small clasp.
‘Give it here,’ her dad said.
She handed him the necklace, turned around and lifted her fuzzy red hair. With the chain secured, she turned back to face him.
‘Looks nice on you. Right, you gonna put the kettle on? I’m bleedin’ gasping.’
Jenny smiled at her father. It had been a tender moment, and she was pleased she’d forgiven him, but her mind was troubled. He was yet to discover that she was carrying Craig’s child.
Chapter 30
It was unusual that Timmy and Peter wanted to stay at home rather than visit their gran, but it was Boxing Day and they wanted to play with their new toys.
‘But we saw Gran yesterday,’ Timmy whined.
‘You can leave them here. I ain’t going anywhere and I’ll keep an eye on them,’ Gloria offered.
‘OK, thanks,’ Jenny answered, ‘but I think Gran will be disappointed.’
She knew their dad was dozing in the living room, and as it was drizzling outside, she told the boys to go upstairs to play. Once they were out of sight, she looked at her sisters, wondering how they were going to react to her news.
‘Spit it out, Jenny. I can see you want to talk to us about something,’ Gloria said.
‘Yes, you’re right, I do.’
‘Go on then, what is it?’ Gloria coaxed.
Jenny lowered her head and looked down at her tummy. The small bump was beginning to show so there’d be no hiding it soon. She had so many fears and worries about bringing a child into the world, especially one without a father, but was also overjoyed to have a small part of Craig living on. ‘The thing is … I hope you’ll be happy for me ’cos I’m over the moon … I’m pregnant.’ There, she’d said it and now a smile spread across her face.
‘No way! And is … is it …’ Gloria cautiously began to ask.
‘Yes, of course it’s Craig’s. I can’t believe you’d think there was anyone else.’
‘Yeah, sorry.’
‘Obviously I’m worried about what people are going to say, but I couldn’t be happier.’
‘That’s lovely, Jenny,’ said Pamela.
‘Lovely – do you really think so?’ Gloria asked scathingly. ‘Have you any idea how people round here will treat Jenny? No, of course you ain’t ’cos you’re just a kid.’
‘How – how will they treat her?’ Pam asked.
‘Like a slut, that’s how. Bloody hell, Jenny, I’m surprised at you. I thought you of all people would’ve known better.’
‘I don’t care what you say, Gloria. This baby is like a gift from heaven to me. If Craig hadn’t have been killed, I wouldn’t be an unmarried mother. I would have a husband and this child would have a father.’
‘But he was killed, Jenny, so you never got to marry him. Your child is a bastard, plain and simple.’
Pamela gasped as Jenny scraped her chair back, her face suffused with colour. ‘How dare you refer to my baby like that!’
‘I’m sorry but I’m only speaking as I find. You’ll hear a lot worse once you really start to show.’
Jenny was about to retaliate again, but then realised that she’d been shouting at her sister. ‘Oh God,’ she said worriedly, ‘I hope Dad hasn’t heard any of this.’
‘What if he has? He’s going to have to find out sooner or later.’
Jenny walked over to the kitchen sink. She felt sick and didn’t know if it was the pregnancy or Gloria’s cruel words that had upset her. She turned on the tap and poured herself a glass of water.
‘I’m sorry, Jenny, I don’t mean to sound mean, but after the lectures I’ve had from you about my morality, I’m shocked that you let this happen. Still, at the end of the day we’re all family and if you’re happy, then I’ll be happy for you.’
Jenny spun around and faced her sister, glad that her attitude had softened. ‘Really? Thanks, Gloria, it means a lot to have your support.’
‘Of course you have, and I’ll tell you what, if I hear anyone bad-mouthing you or being nasty, they’ll have me to deal with.’
Jenny looked down at her stomach and said, ‘Did you hear that, baby? Aunty Gloria will look after you.’
The girls laughed, but it ended abruptly when Pamela asked, ‘When are you going to tell Dad?’
‘I’m not sure. It’s not something I’m looking forward to.’
‘If I was you,’ Gloria said, ‘I’d make sure he knows about it before he finds out from someone else. Once they get wind of this where you work, it’ll fly around Balham.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’
‘Talking of work, when it comes out that you’re pregnant, won’t that Miss Aston sack you?
‘Yes, probably. I can’t see her letting me stay.’
‘When that happens, how will you afford to look after the baby?’
Jenny sat back down at the table and sighed. ‘I haven’t worked that out, but … but maybe I can find key-holder cleaning jobs, ones where I could take the baby with me. I just hope Dad doesn’t throw me out.’
‘I can’t believe he’d do that. After all, you’re carrying his grandchild,’ said Gloria.
‘Let’s hope he sees it like that.’
‘Have you thought of any names for the baby?’ Pamela asked.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I have,’ Jenny replied. ‘Craig for a boy, obviously, and maybe Claire for a girl. It’s the only name I can think of that’s similar to Craig.’
‘They’re really nice, Jenny. I hope you have a girl … I can’t wait to be an aunt,’ Pamela said.
‘Yeah, she’s right, Jen, they are nice names. If Craig’s up there watching over you, he’d be chuffed to bits.’
‘Yes, he would, and I think you’ll be an amazing mum,’ Pamela added.
Jenny was touched and struggled to hold back tears. She didn’t think her heart would ever fully mend, but at least she had Craig’s baby to cherish. She would have more than just memories, and for the first time since his death she believed in a happier futur
e.
Lizzie was looking forward to seeing the looks on her children’s faces when she turned up in a flash car and handed out their Christmas presents. She was in the passenger seat next to Owen and on her way to Henry’s house. It was Boxing Day, and she hoped they wouldn’t be too disappointed that she hadn’t visited them yesterday. She’d been stuck with Owen and his overbearing mother. It had been miserable, but she’d pasted on a fake smile, delighting them with a pleasant Christmas lunch. She reckoned the old girl would surely pop her clogs soon, leaving Owen as her sole inheritor. She had a fancy house near Wimbledon Common, hinted at savings and wore expensive jewellery.
Despite being bored stiff with Owen, Lizzie thought it would be worth sticking around to reap the benefits. She liked the idea of living in Wimbledon, though she was very comfortable in his three-bedroom flat in Du Cane Court. She sometimes had to pinch herself to make sure she was awake and wasn’t dreaming. It didn’t seem like that long ago that she was stuck in a loveless marriage living on the poverty line with five children. Now, she lived in luxury in Balham’s most exclusive residence.
When they pulled up outside Henry’s house, Lizzie told Owen as she climbed out of the car, ‘You wait here. I’ll bring the kids out.’
She knocked on the front door, and when Gloria opened it, she shouted, ‘Surprise! It’s your mum!’
Gloria looked over her shoulder, than stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her. ‘What are you doing here?’ she whispered angrily.
‘It’s Christmas, Gloria, what do you think I’m doing here?’
‘Christmas was yesterday, and anyway I thought you told Jenny that you wouldn’t come here?’
‘Yeah, well, I couldn’t let Christmas pass without seeing you all. Go and get the others, I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘Mum, please, just go before Dad knows you’re here.’
‘No, Gloria, I won’t. I’m sick to the back teeth of everyone trying to keep me away from my children. Now go and get the others and stop making a scene in front of Owen,’ Lizzie hissed.
‘I can’t believe you’ve brought your boyfriend here too!’
‘Oh, Gloria, stop harping on, will you?’
The door opened again and, seeing her, Timmy yelled, ‘Mummy.’
‘Merry Christmas, darling,’ Lizzie said, and when Peter came running out, she added, ‘You too, darling.’
The boys threw their arms around her, but as Lizzie looked up she saw a horrible expression on her daughter’s face. It reminded her of the way her mother would look at her. ‘Timmy, go fetch Pamela and Jenny. I’ve got gifts for you all in the boot of that car,’ Lizzie said, and pointed to the dark blue Volvo where Owen was now standing next to the driver’s door.
‘Is that your car?’ Peter asked as Timmy ran indoors.
‘No, it belongs to Owen. You can say hello in a minute.’
Timmy dashed back out, with Pamela and Jenny behind. Pamela’s face was blank, but Jenny looked livid as she spat, ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘Don’t be like that. You can’t expect me to stay away over Christmas, but don’t worry, I’m not stopping.’
‘You promised, Mum,’ Jenny said.
‘I never made any promises, but I don’t expect to be invited in. I just want to give you your presents, so come over and say hello to Owen while I get them from the boot.’
The boys were already examining the car and bombarding Owen with questions about how fast it could drive, and could they have a ride. ‘Give him a bit of peace, boys,’ Lizzie said, then making the introductions. ‘Girls, this is Owen, my good friend.’
The man smiled but said nothing as Lizzie opened the boot, saying, ‘Owen drives across Europe in a rally race. He went to Monte Carlo in January and said he’s going to take me next time.’
‘Good for you,’ Gloria said snidely.
‘Can we come?’ Timmy asked excitedly.
‘No, darling, children aren’t allowed, but maybe one day, when you’re a big boy, you could race your own car.’
‘Where’s Mondycar?’ Peter asked.
‘Monte Carlo … it’s a long way away,’ Lizzie answered. ‘Right, who wants a Christmas present?’
‘Meeeeeeeeee,’ the boys yelled in unison and ran to the back of the car.
Lizzie pulled out their presents, and as she handed them out she glanced up to see that Henry had pulled back the net curtain to glare at her through the downstairs window. She smiled weakly at him but got a menacing grimace in return.
Jenny saw her father and began to shake, but Lizzie put it down to the girl being cold. It was December, after all, and she was only wearing a thin blouse. When she looked back at the window, Henry was gone, but then Lizzie’s heart sank when she saw him storm out of the house.
His arms were flailing in the air and he was screeching obscenities. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?’
‘I brought the kids their Christmas presents,’ Lizzie answered.
‘They don’t fucking need your presents, so you can shove them up your fucking arse. Kids, give ’em back to your mother … NOW!’
Lizzie could see Peter was beginning to cry and his face had turned white. Timmy clung to Pamela’s skirt and was quick to hand back the large wrapped box he’d been given.
‘Now, now, my man, there’s no need for this,’ Owen said as he walked towards Henry.
Lizzie quickly jumped in between them. She knew Henry wouldn’t take kindly to Owen trying to calm him down and feared he would wallop him. Owen wasn’t a big man, and she didn’t reckon his chances up against her husband. ‘Please, Henry, it’s Christmas … let’s not upset the kids, eh?’
‘If you don’t want the kids upset, you shouldn’t have come round. Now take your fucking fancy man in his poncy car and piss off!’
‘OK, OK … we’re going … I’ll see you soon, kids,’ Lizzie said as she steered Owen back towards the car.
‘No, you fucking won’t,’ Henry barked, then turned to his children and shouted, ‘Get inside, the lot of ya.’
Lizzie climbed into the passenger seat and watched as her children fled indoors. It was tragic to see her boys crying and Pamela looking so fearful. Gloria was snarling at her and Jenny had her head down.
‘That didn’t go very well,’ Owen said.
‘Just get me away from here,’ Lizzie answered.
As they drove down the road, Lizzie looked behind out of the rear window and watched Henry fade into the distance. She never wanted to see him again, but that would mean she’d never see her children either.
‘The fucking cheek of it, turning up here with a bloke!’ Henry growled as he paced the front room floor.
Jenny stood in the doorway. She could feel herself trembling as she watched and listened to her father furiously ranting. Then he stepped and turned to look directly at her.
‘Who was he? He looked like a right fucking relic she’d dug up from the cemetery!’
Jenny was too afraid to answer.
‘I said, who the fuck is he?’
Her dad shouted the question at her, causing her to flinch and tense, but still she couldn’t answer. He marched towards her and Jenny quickly stepped to one side.
‘Where’s the boys? I hope they gave back them presents …’
Jenny’s steps were small and fast as she followed her father up the hallway and into the kitchen. She could see through the window that Peter was huddled in the corner of the garden desperately holding his Christmas box tightly to his chest, and it looked like Gloria was trying to coax it from him.
Her father pulled open the back door and stomped into the small garden. ‘Did your mother give you that?’ he screeched at Peter.
Gloria spun around, looking petrified.
Peter nodded his head, his face pale.
‘Give it to me,’ their father said through gritted teeth.
‘No … my mummy gave it to me … it’s mine …’
Gloria tried pleading with
the boy, ‘Please, Peter, give it to Dad. You’ve got lots of new toys from Santa, you don’t need this one.’
‘But I want this one … it’s from my mummy …’ Peter snivelled.
‘You spoilt fucking brat. Give me that box or I’ll knock you into next year!’
As soon as Jenny heard her father’s threat, she ran across the patchy grass, trying not to slip on the mud. She stood defiantly in front of Peter and stared at her dad.
‘Get out of my way. The boy needs to learn that what I say goes … MOVE!’
Jenny stood her ground, though she was shaking with fear and hoped her legs wouldn’t give way. She had seen the force of her father’s temper before and closed her eyes momentarily against what she knew was coming. Jenny braced herself, but instead of a punch he roughly shoved her, and she tumbled sideways, fighting to regain her balance as he advanced to tower over Peter.
Her father’s voice was slow and deliberate as he glowered at his son and growled, ‘I’m warning you, boy, you’ve got one last chance to give that present to me.’
Peter’s face looked frozen with fright, but he hunched down low, still gripping the box. Jenny saw her father clench his fist and without thinking she instinctively grabbed his arm, pulling him towards her.
‘Gerroff me,’ he shouted and violently shrugged her away.
Undeterred, Jenny grabbed at him again. ‘Please, Dad … No …’
Once again, her dad managed to throw her off, only this time it was followed by a sharp blow to the side of her head. He’d punched her, but she hadn’t seen it coming. She still fought desperately to keep him away from Peter, but he jabbed his elbow into her midriff, so hard it left her winded. Before she could recover, his large hands pushed aggressively against her chest, and the force of his strength sent her stumbling backwards in the slippery mud. She lost her footing and fell, hitting the ground hard. It was all happening so quickly that Jenny didn’t have time to think, she could only react. When she saw her father’s booted foot coming towards her she instinctively tried to protect her baby by rolling over, but it was too late. He stamped on her violently, the boot landing on her stomach.
‘No, Dad,’ she heard Gloria scream as he lifted his foot again, ‘Don’t. She’s pregnant!’
