by Kitty Neale
‘Is it from your sister?’ Jack asked, perking up.
‘Yep!’
‘Tell me then,’ Jack urged.
‘What’s it worth?’
‘Stop mucking about and just tell me what she said.’
‘Spoilsport. Jenny said she’ll meet you at the ABC Café tonight at seven-thirty.’
‘Really? You’re not winding me up? She really said that?’
‘Yes, so you’d better be there.’
‘I will, don’t you worry. Blimey, I’d better get a move on. Thanks, Gloria, have a good weekend … I know I will!’
‘Yeah, see you on Monday, and make sure you take good care of my sister or you’ll have me to answer to,’ Gloria called as she waved goodbye.
Once alone in the street, though Gloria knew Dwight was locked up, she still checked around her. He’d unnerved her more than she cared to admit and she hurried the rest of the way home. Gail had said she was going to be late, so that meant she’d be alone in the flat for the first time since the incident. She shuddered at the thought, and decided she’d call in to see Rose and Charlie. They always made her feel welcome, and Rose normally had a tasty pot of something stewing. She wished her mum could have been more like Rose and realised she missed the security of a family home.
Tina had been pleased when Jenny told her she was meeting Jack that night, and she finally admitted that she’d tried to orchestrate them getting together. Now, as Jenny approached the café, she could see Jack’s red hair and once again her stomach fluttered with nerves.
‘Hello, Jenny,’ he greeted her, ‘fancy seeing you here. Are you meeting someone?’
‘I … I … erm …’ Jenny said, confused and embarrassed.
‘I’m only larking about. I’m so glad you changed your mind about seeing me. You look knock-out.’
‘Thanks,’ Jenny replied. His humour was similar to Craig’s. She thought Craig would approve of Jack and she felt a little more relaxed, though she knew her face probably matched her hair.
Once inside and seated, Jack ordered them coffee. ‘I’m gonna own up,’ he said, looking a little uncomfortable. ‘This is my first date. I’ve never actually been out with a woman before and my hands are sweating. Look.’ He held his palms towards her.
‘Goodness, they really are,’ she said, surprised. ‘I wouldn’t have guessed you’re nervous. You come over as confident.’
‘I normally am, but there’s something about you that has a funny effect on me. Anyway, if I find meself tongue-tied or me hands shake when I’m drinking me coffee, you’ll know why.’
Jenny giggled and instantly warmed more towards him. He was so open and honest and there didn’t seem to be any hidden agenda with him. ‘I’m nervous too,’ she admitted.
‘Blimey, what a pair,’ Jack said, grinning.
They talked for hours, until Jenny noticed the café floor was being mopped, ready for closing time. She realised it was gone ten.
‘I’ll walk you home,’ Jack offered.
Once they stepped outside, she felt his hand slip into hers. It didn’t feel wet any more, and Jenny smiled. Like her, he was more relaxed now.
‘Can I see you again?’ he asked.
‘I’d like that,’ Jenny answered. She’d had a wonderful evening. But suddenly she fell quiet.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ Jenny answered. ‘I feel a bit guilty because I’ve just realised that I’ve hardly thought about Craig all night.’
‘From what you’ve told me, I think he’d understand and wouldn’t want you to feel bad. He sounds like he was a really nice bloke, someone I’d have wanted as a mate.’
‘Yes, I think you’d have got on well with him.’
‘Listen, Jenny, I don’t know what happens to us when we die, but if Craig is around, or if he can hear me, I’d like him to know that I’m going to take very good care of you. I reckon he’d like that.’
‘Yes, he would,’ Jenny croaked, fighting tears, and for the first time she felt she could let a little bit of Craig go.
Chapter 43
October 1962
Six months had passed since Owen had signed the papers by which, in the event of his death, one thousand pounds would be left to Lizzie. She was still far from happy with the arrangement and determined to get her hands on more money. For some time now she had been worming her way into favour with Owen’s mother. She’d run errands for her, kept her company for hours at a time and now, every Friday afternoon, she fixed Patricia’s hair.
In the woman’s home now, Lizzie wound Patricia’s thin white locks around a roller and piped, ‘I’d love to see any photos of Owen as a baby. Do you have any?’
‘Yes, a few, but he was an ugly child, fat with piggy eyes. He did blossom as a young man, but I’m afraid he now looks much like he did as a baby.’
‘Oh, Patricia, you are so wicked,’ Lizzie said, and laughed.
‘One must speak as one finds. His father was never blessed with a fair face either.’
‘I’ve been thinking … it seems a waste of money to be paying your nurse to look after you on a full-time basis considering how much time I spend with you. If you want you could cut her hours to part-time.’
‘No, I don’t want to,’ Patricia answered abruptly.
‘It was just a suggestion. I don’t like to see you throwing your money away, that’s all.’
‘Why would you be concerned about my money?’ Patricia asked.
Lizzie knew she’d have to tread carefully. The woman was old, but she still had her wits about her.
‘I’m not,’ Lizzie lied, ‘I’m just frugal and don’t like to see money being wasted.’
‘You don’t seem to be very frugal with my son’s money.’
Lizzie thought quickly and defended herself by saying, ‘Owen likes me to buy nice things for myself.’
‘I’m sure he does and I’m sure he is handsomely rewarded for his generosity. That’s the problem with Owen – he’s always had a liking for sluts.’
Lizzie stared down at the top of the old woman’s head, shocked at what she’d heard. She was tempted to respond by jabbing the sharp end of the comb into her scalp. Instead, she swallowed hard and said, ‘I hope I’ve misunderstood you, Patricia, and you’re not implying that I’m a slut?’
‘No, Lizzie, I never imply. I’m sorry, I should have made myself clearer. You’re a slut. There, no misunderstanding now.’
‘Patricia, why are you being so horrid? I’ve spent hour upon hour keeping you company, and I thought we were friends.’
‘No, Lizzie, we will never be friends. You’re no different from the many other gold-diggers my son has taken to his bed over the years. You are just one in a long line of sluts after his money. You are far from the first and you won’t be the last.’
‘I’m not a gold-digger,’ Lizzie protested.
‘Don’t take me for a fool, girl. I know my son and he’s probably told you you’re not in his will so now you’re after my money. Do you really assume I am so ignorant that I wouldn’t know what you’re up to? I’ve been here before and I must say, I rather enjoy playing the game. However, I’m tired of you now and look forward to my next opponent.’
‘You evil bitch,’ Lizzie sneered, ‘if it wasn’t for me, you’d be a lonely old woman cooped up all by yourself in this big house. I call in to see you twice a week out of the goodness of my heart, and this is the thanks I get!’
‘The goodness of your heart? Come now, Lizzie, we know there is nothing good about your heart.’
Lizzie stood in stunned silence as Patricia rang a bell to summon the nurse. When the young woman appeared, Patricia instructed, ‘Please see Mrs Lombard out and ensure she doesn’t help herself to any of my belongings as she leaves.’
‘How – how dare you?’ Lizzie stammered.
‘Oh, I dare, and do give my regards to Owen.’
Speechless, Lizzie grabbed her coat and marched past the nurse. She didn’t look back as she stomped
out of the large house and into the chilly October winds. The cold hit her immediately, and she pulled her coat on, fuming that the old cow had been playing her. She’d invested so much time into getting around the woman, but it had turned out to be for nothing.
Lizzie was no better off than she was six months ago, and now knew she never would be.
‘Are you seeing Jack again this weekend?’ Gloria asked.
‘Yes, he’s taking me out to dinner later,’ Jenny answered and couldn’t hide the big smile that broke out across her face whenever she spoke about him.
‘Somewhere posh?’
‘I doubt it. Knowing him, it’ll be to a Wimpy Bar.’
They were sitting in their gran’s lounge and talking quietly as Edith had dozed off in her armchair. Jenny’s relationship with Jack had blossomed over the past six months, though she’d had her reservations about him. Whenever she’d voiced her fears, her gran was always there to listen and tell her she was being silly. Eventually, she’d given in and allowed herself to love him.
‘What time have you got to pick the boys up from the party? I was hoping to see them,’ Gloria asked.
‘Pamela is going to get them on her way home from work. She’s really enjoying her new job at Sally’s Salon.’
‘It’s right up her street. When she leaves school, I bet she ends up working there full-time.’
‘Yes, probably. By the way, I forgot to tell you. Mum and Owen took the boys to London Zoo last week.’
‘Blimey, what’s got into her?’ Gloria asked.
‘I don’t know, but that’s several weeks in a row now that she’s made the effort to see them. I hope she keeps it up.’
‘You know what she’s like, so don’t hold your breath on that one. Anyway, tell me more about Jack. Is there any particular reason that he’s taking you for dinner?’
‘Like what?’ Jenny asked, but she knew what Gloria was getting at.
‘Any hints of an engagement ring?’
‘He hasn’t said anything to me – has he to you?’ Jenny asked excitedly.
‘He did mention how well you got on with his mum and that she’d asked him if she needed to buy a new hat …’
‘And what did he answer?’
‘He told her to go shopping!’
‘No way! Oh, my God, Gloria! He’s going to ask me to marry him!’
‘Shush, you’ll wake Gran, but yes, I think so. Just don’t tell him I said anything.’
‘I won’t say a word. It’s funny, if you’d asked me six months ago, I’d have told you that I was never going to get married, that nobody could ever replace Craig. Somehow, though, and I don’t know how it happened, I fell in love with Jack. I realise he has his faults, and sometimes his irresponsibility drives me crazy, but I suppose he’s never had to worry about his family like I have mine. You know I think the world of him. I’ll never stop loving Craig, but there’s room in my heart for them both.’
‘I’m happy for you, Sis, you deserve this more than anyone, and it’s great to see Jack so happy too. Oh, and you’re welcome, just call me Cupid.’
‘Yes, thank you. Along with Tina, you played a big role in getting us together.’
‘Shame I can’t find myself a decent man.’
‘You will,’ Edith said and opened her eyes.
‘Sorry, Gran, did we wake you?’ Jenny asked.
‘No, love, I wasn’t sleeping. I was listening to you two soppy buggers.’
‘Good job we weren’t talking about you then,’ Gloria said and laughed.
‘You wouldn’t dare.’ Edith smiled, then said, ‘So, Jenny, it sounds like you’ll soon be getting a ring on your finger.’
‘I hope so, Gran,’ Jenny answered, beaming.
‘He’s a nice lad, even if he is a cheeky so-and-so.’
Yes, he was definitely that, thought Jenny, and blushed at the memory of him having a cheeky grope of her breasts. He’d laughed at the time and called her a tease, but she was remaining strong on not having sex with him before they were married. She’d once almost been left as an unmarried mother and she wasn’t prepared to take that risk again.
It niggled her that Jack didn’t seem to take anything seriously and she worried about him sometimes being immature. When she’d discussed her concerns with her gran, Edith had told her he just had a good sense of humour, and that was important in a relationship. Jenny appreciated her gran’s advice so she had dismissed her worries, but she’d noticed lately that Jack was a flirt. He was always larking around with other women and it made her feel uncomfortable. She hoped he’d stop once they were married. Her gran had pointed out that no man was perfect, and if that was Jack’s only flaw, then she had nothing to worry about. Jenny wasn’t sure, though, because in her eyes Craig had been perfect. But her gran was probably right: though Jack wasn’t faultless, he’d won her heart.
Later that evening, Jenny sat across the dining table in the fancy French restaurant Jack had booked. It wasn’t the sort of place he normally took her to, and she sneaked a look over the top of her menu to see that Jack was sweating. He had his best shirt on and was fidgeting nervously. Her heart hammered in her chest. He was going to propose at some point during their meal, she was sure of it, and she hoped it would be sooner rather than later, to put Jack out of his misery.
‘Are you ready to order?’ the waiter asked.
Jenny gulped. She didn’t understand a word of the menu and couldn’t pronounce half the things. She pointed to something but had no idea what it was. It was food, she was in a nice restaurant, so she thought it would be delicious, whatever it turned out to be.
Jack said he’d have whatever she was having and asked the waiter to bring two glasses of champagne. This was it. There could be only one reason he’d order champagne.
The waiter soon returned with the fizz and as Jenny held her glass, she could feel herself blushing, waiting for Jack to get down on one knee. She would have preferred him not to make a scene but knew that wouldn’t be Jack’s style.
‘Cheers,’ Jack said, and clinked his glass to hers.
‘Cheers,’ she replied, and was surprised when he began to drink his champagne without a proposal.
Perhaps he’d changed his mind? Maybe he wasn’t going to ask her after all?
The bubbles of her champagne had settled and as she went to drink, Jenny noticed something in the bottom of her glass. ‘What the …’ she muttered and peered closer.
‘Is there something in your drink?’ Jack asked.
‘Yes … it looks like …’ Jenny answered and hooked it out with a fork. Then she gasped, ‘It’s a ring.’
‘It’s for you, darling. Will you marry me?’ Jack asked, his eyes glistening in the candlelight.
‘Oh, yes … yes, I will.’ It wasn’t the proposal she’d been expecting but it was very sweet and amusing.
Jack pushed his seat back and walked around to her. He took the ring and placed it on her finger amid rapturous applause and cheers from the waiters and diners.
‘Congratulations,’ their waiter said, and popped the cork from a champagne bottle. ‘Compliments of the house.’
Jack returned to his seat and thanked the waiter, then whispered to Jenny, ‘I don’t really like this champagne stuff. I’d prefer a beer.’
‘I don’t mind it,’ Jenny said as she pointed her nose in the air and pretended to be upper-class.
‘I’m so glad you said yes. I’ve been worrying all day that you’d turn me down.’
‘Why would you think that? I love you, Jack, and can’t wait to be your wife.’
The waiter appeared again and placed a plate in front of each of them. Jenny looked down at hers and almost screamed. She glanced across to Jack. He looked as horrified as she felt.
‘Bleedin’ hell, Jen, it’s snails!’ he said with disgust.
‘I can’t eat them.’
‘Nah, me neither,’ Jack replied, then leaned in towards her. ‘Shall we get out of here?’
‘Yes, please,’
Jenny answered and noticed the naughty glint in Jack’s eyes.
‘Come on then, stand up, and when I say, “Go”, run for it.’
Jenny was appalled at first, but then she grinned. She had never done anything like this in her life before, and it would certainly make the evening a memorable one. With her heart racing, she waited for the signal.
‘Go,’ Jack hissed, and they ran through the restaurant and out onto the street.
Jenny could hear the waiter calling them, but Jack had hold of her hand and was pulling her along. They turned a corner, then another, before they stopped and fell about in laughter.
‘What terrible behaviour from an almost married woman,’ Jack said.
‘I know, but there was no way I could have eaten them snails. I bet they were right slimy!’
‘Fancy a sausage and chips?’
‘Yes, that would be perfect,’ Jenny answered, and held her fiancé’s hand as they headed for the chip shop.
‘When do you want to do it?’ Jack asked.
‘Do what?’
‘Get married!’
‘I don’t know, after Christmas. How about February the fourteenth?’
‘Valentine’s Day? If that’s what you want, but it might be a bit cold.’
‘Probably, but I think it’ll be romantic,’ Jenny told him.
‘It means I can’t get my hands on you for another four months yet,’ Jack said, pretending to moan. ‘We’d better start looking for somewhere to live, unless you want to move in with me and my mum once we’re married?’
‘I don’t think your mum would want all us lot invading her house.’
‘What do you mean? She’d be more than happy for us to live there, but I figured you’d want us to have our own place.’
‘Yes, I would, and it’d be nice if we could afford somewhere big enough for the boys to have their own room.’
‘The boys? You mean Timmy and Peter?’
‘Yes. They loved it when we stayed at Du Cane Court and they didn’t have to share with Pamela,’ Jenny replied, not telling him about when they’d lived with Craig in the house they’d rented.
‘They’ll be welcome to come and stay some weekends, but I don’t think we need to worry about making sure they’ve got their own room, not just for visits.’
