Family Drama 4 E-Book Bundle

by Pam Weaver

  ‘But you’ll miss the bonfire,’ Dottie cautioned.

  Reg shrugged and went back to his paper. Dottie supposed she should ask him where he was going but in truth she didn’t care. Another couple of days without him would be wonderful. She was just happy to be left alone.

  On Friday morning she packed him a suitcase and some sandwiches and he went off in his best suit. He didn’t kiss her goodbye. She didn’t care about that either. As soon as she was sure he was really gone, her heart fluttering with excitement, Dottie went to the phone box and telephoned John Landers.

  By six thirty on Saturday, Tom Prior and Michael Gilbert had set up the last of the Catherine Wheels and checked that the rest of the fireworks were safely stored in the big tin. The womenfolk and kids hadn’t arrived yet but it was already getting dark. They had cordoned off the bonfire and Tom had laid the potatoes on a sheet of corrugated iron at the base. Earlier in the afternoon, they’d sent Steve Sullivan’s terrier in to check that there weren’t any hedgehogs or stray cats sleeping inside and now everything was ready for the off.

  ‘We’re having a do for Patsy later on,’ Tom said.

  Marney nodded approvingly. ‘Any excuse for a good old shindig.’

  ‘Mum suggested a barn dance,’ said Michael. ‘She’s left it all to us to organise.’

  ‘How do we go about doing that then?’

  ‘My Freda asked the bloke who played the piano-accordion at our wedding. His brother plays the fiddle,’ Michael told them. ‘Apparently Don Patterson from Findon is available and he’s a good caller. It should be a cracking night.’

  ‘Oh, “my Freda” now, is it?’ Tom teased.

  Michael felt his face flame and turned away. Yes, surprisingly it was ‘my Freda’ now. From the moment they’d been married, he and Freda had got on well together. She made him feel good and he was happy.

  ‘Terry Dore says he’ll give us a barrel, so us shan’t go thirsty …’ Tom was saying.

  ‘What about the food?’ asked Michael.

  ‘Oh, leave that to the womenfolk,’ said Tom dismissively. ‘We’ve done the most important bit.’

  They carried the guy in procession from Janet Cooper’s shop through the village and past the church, a crowd of elated children following behind. Patsy, her eyes bright with excitement, skipped alongside the old pram which was being pushed by Billy.

  ‘The only time I’ve ever known him willing to push the darned thing …’ Mary muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

  Dottie laughed. The two friends held the hands of the little ones. Dottie had Connie and Maureen, while Mary hung on to Christopher and Susan. Everyone was well wrapped up although the evening wasn’t that cold.

  When they reached the field, the children ran off and by the time Dottie and Mary came the men were hosting the guy, now tied to a three-legged chair, onto the top of the bonfire with ropes. As soon as he reached the top, albeit at a drunken angle, there was a ragged cheer from the crowd and the sound of muffled clapping from their gloved hands. Dottie and Mary gathered the little ones behind the roped-off area and waited.

  ‘They’ve done it very well,’ Dottie remarked.

  Mary smiled proudly. ‘Tom is always very careful when it comes to the kids. You will give me a hand giving out the jackets when they’re done, won’t you, Dottie? They won’t take long. I started them off in the oven.’

  Michael was given the honour of lighting the first Catherine wheel. Patsy was mesmerised as it shot out a shower of coloured sparks which eventually made it turn at great speed on the nail and she gasped with pleasure as the colours merged into one bright yellow and orange blur.

  The men moved about silently lighting the positioned fireworks in a pre-arranged sequence. They held things on a tight rein, the only hiccup occurring when Billy’s friend, Raymond Green, threw a jumping jack into the crowd, terrifying little Connie and making the other girls scream. Raymond was rewarded with a clip round the ear from PC Kipling and then another from his father standing nearby. Dottie picked up Connie and tried to calm her down. The child clung to her, trembling and burying her face into Dottie’s coat.

  Within a few minutes of the start of the fireworks, Tom plunged a lighted torch into the middle of the bonfire and it quickly took hold, the glowing embers soaring high into the night sky. When the rockets went up, everyone – including Connie – looked up, their ‘Oooh’s and ‘Ahhh’s echoing all around the field.

  Dottie became aware of someone standing right behind her and a pair of gloved hands covered her eyes. ‘Guess who?’ said a woman’s voice.

  Dottie didn’t need to second-guess. With a cry of joy she pulled herself away from the gentle restraint. ‘Peaches!’ And the two of them laughed and hugged each other with Connie in between.

  ‘How are you? Is the baby here? What about Gary? How’s he getting on?’ The questions just spilled from Dottie’s lips.

  ‘Hey, steady on,’ Peaches laughed. Jack took Connie from Dottie’s arms and, with a wink, left them to it. ‘Everybody’s fine. Oh Dottie, it’s so good to see you.’

  ‘It’s good to see you too,’ cried Dottie. She was aware that Patsy had crept beside her and was looking up at them in mild surprise. Dottie put her arm around Patsy’s shoulders. ‘You haven’t met my Patsy yet, have you? Patsy, this is your Aunt Peaches.’

  ‘Hello, Patsy. I’ve heard all about you.’

  ‘Hello,’ said Patsy.

  Maureen wiggled between them. ‘Mum’s got some sparklers for us to hold,’ she told Patsy and the two girls ran off to find Mary.

  Edna pushed a baked potato wrapped in newspaper into Peaches’ hand.

  ‘Tell me about Gary,’ Dottie insisted. ‘I heard they transferred him to Courtlands.’

  ‘It’s a smashing place,’ said Peaches. ‘He’s got to stay there another four to five months, but he’s breathing on his own now and he’s getting stronger every day.’

  ‘Oh Peaches,’ said Dottie helplessly.

  ‘It’s all right. We’ve got used to it now. We’re just really pleased he’s got this far and the doctor is hopeful that he’ll make a good recovery.’

  ‘What about his leg?’

  ‘It’s a bit skinny,’ said Peaches, picking at her potato with her fingers. ‘It could have been a lot worse. At one time the doctors said he might never walk again.’

  Dottie took in her breath.

  ‘It’s all right now. They say the exercises will make it strong again.’

  Dottie regarded her shape. ‘And I heard you had a little girl.’

  Peaches smiled. ‘We’ve called her Mandy.’

  ‘Where is she now? Is she all right?’

  Peaches nodded. ‘She weighed seven pounds three ounces, and she’s got Jack’s eyes and my hair.’

  ‘I’d love to see her,’ sighed Dottie.

  Peaches lowered her eyes. ‘The fact is, Dottie, after the way I treated you …’

  Dottie squeezed her friend’s arm. ‘It’s all water under the bridge now.’

  ‘I know now that you did go to see Gary,’ said Peaches. ‘I only found out when we took Ivy and Brumas back.’

  ‘The bears …? Oh, didn’t he like them?’

  ‘He wouldn’t be parted from them,’ said Peaches, ‘but we thought they belonged to the hospital. He kept saying, ‘Auntie Dottie gave them to me.”

  Dottie smiled. ‘I’m surprised he even remembered.’

  ‘I didn’t believe him,’ Peaches went on, ‘but the nurse said someone brought them in for him on that first day, and she described you. Dottie, why didn’t you say? Why did you pretend you didn’t go?’

  ‘Reg didn’t want me to go to the isolation hospital,’ said Dottie with a sigh. ‘He was convinced I would get the polio and then we wouldn’t be able to have Patsy.’

  Peaches squeezed Dottie’s hand. ‘She’s a lovely little girl, Dottie. Mary said she comes all the way from Australia. She’s … she’s very dark.’

  ‘We’ve got her because Reg knew
someone out there,’ Dottie said, repeating yet again the well-rehearsed story. It slipped off her tongue easily these days. ‘If we’d gone through one of those adoption agencies, we’d have to have medicals and they’d ask questions and,’ she added with a nervous laugh, ‘you know how much Reg hates all that red tape!’

  ‘It’s a shame you’ve never had children of your own.’

  ‘As a matter of fact …’ Dottie said confidentially; drawing Peaches closer she whispered, ‘don’t say anything just yet but I think …’

  Peaches beamed. ‘Oh Dottie … how exciting …’

  ‘Don’t breathe a word,’ Dottie cautioned. ‘I haven’t even told Reg yet.’

  Peaches looked around. ‘Where is Reg?’

  ‘Give us a hand, Dottie!’ came a cry.

  Dottie started and then the realisation dawned. ‘Oh my lord … Sorry, Peaches, I promised Mary I’d give her a hand dishing out the spuds.’

  Reg’s heart was pumping. He stared at the closed door, wondering what delectable morsels were being prepared on the other side.

  When he’d arrived, Joyce had been annoyed when he told her the money was a bit tied up.

  ‘I’m not going to be poor all my life,’ she’d pouted. ‘If you want me, Reg, you have to pay for it. I’m not giving up what I’ve got for nothing.’

  When she’d said that he’d lost his rag. They’d fought like cat and dog until he’d punched her to the ground. After that, they’d had passionate, exciting and violent sex. He couldn’t be without her again. She did things to him that no other woman ever did. She teased him until he was in a frenzy of desire and when she gave herself to him she didn’t mind experimenting – she had no inhibitions and she’d try anything he fancied. She even came up with some wild ideas herself. She was all woman and he was putty in her hands. Why couldn’t they all be like her?

  All at once, Aunt Bessie’s voice filled his head. ‘When Dottie hears what you did, you’ll be out on your ear.’

  ‘Dot will do just what I say,’ he’d boasted.

  Joyce’s sultry voice brought him back to the present. Wait outside the room, she’d said, and I’ll give you a fantastic surprise. Naked, he felt himself harden as he stood up and walked towards the bedroom. He glanced down to admire his manhood. He could have this every night if he could get hold of some decent money. His eyes narrowed. There had to be a way of getting rich quick. Only Dot and that bloody kid stood in his way …

  Twenty-Six

  It was Sunday, the day Dottie and Patsy were due to meet Mrs Landers, and it was chucking it down with rain. Dottie regretted insisting that John meet them at the crossroads again. They were going to get extremely wet.

  She asked Ann to shut the chickens in if she wasn’t back in time.

  ‘What if Reg turns up?’ Ann asked nervously. ‘Where shall I tell him you’ve gone?’

  ‘Reg is away until tonight,’ Dottie explained. ‘And I’m taking Patsy to see Dr Landers.’

  Ann frowned anxiously. ‘Is there something wrong with her?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ said Dottie. ‘Dr Landers looked after Patsy when she came from Australia. He’s very fond of her.’

  Her friend raised an eyebrow suggestively. ‘Going somewhere nice?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so,’ laughed Dottie. ‘We are to meet his old mother.’

  ‘How disappointing,’ Ann sighed. ‘I hope you don’t get too bored with the old fossils.’

  John drove them through the autumnal lanes towards Littlehampton and on to the Sussex village of Yapton. As Patsy and John chattered away, Dottie had never felt happier. He was such a lovely man, good looking, kind … if only … She pushed her daydreams aside and concentrated on the view from the car window.

  There was little in the centre of the village, just a few shops and a public green. They crossed the old canal and headed along the Barnham road where his mother lived in a small cottage. Although the garden had seen better days, it was a delightful place. Of course, there was little in the way of flowers in the garden at this time of year but a few chrysanthemums and Michaelmas daisies soldiered on, and the odd rose remained even though most of the bush was little more than bare twigs. The leaves of the wisteria which grew over the front door were beginning to wilt and the geraniums were way past their best, but Dottie imagined that it was very beautiful in the spring and summer months.

  As they climbed out of the car, their ears were assaulted by loud music. John knocked at the front door and Minnie barked but nobody came. Taking a spare key from under a flowerpot by the window, he opened the door and they all went in.

  Laura Landers was a bird-like woman with white wispy hair and pale colourless eyes, but she was far from being a fossil. She was wearing a maroon-coloured dress with tiny white dots all over it, slightly too severe for her pale complexion, but as they all walked in to her light airy sitting room, the radio was blaring out the new Patti Page song, ‘Tennessee Waltz’. Laura was dancing with a cushion in her arms and, as John entered the room, she was so surprised to see them, she almost fell over.

  ‘Mother!’ John cried rushing to her side.

  ‘Don’t fuss, dear,’ she said recovering herself. ‘You made me jump, that’s all.’

  Dottie warmed to her immediately. She was wonderful!

  John went over to the gramophone to turn it off.

  ‘I’m sorry, my dear,’ said Laura clutching her chest and sinking into a chair. ‘Forgive the eccentricities of a silly old woman. I’m quite puffed out now.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Dottie. ‘You dance beautifully.’

  Laura Landers waved her hand dismissively. ‘You mustn’t flatter me or I shall want to do it all over again and, as you can see, that will only make my son very cross.’ She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘He thinks I’m already in my dotage and I should spend my days on the sofa, surrounded by cushions.’

  Dottie grinned.

  ‘Don’t take any notice of her,’ said John as he crossed the room and kissed his mother on the cheek. ‘And you behave yourself, Mother.’

  ‘And where’s the fun in that?’ the old woman protested. ‘I take it this lady is Mrs Cox?’

  ‘Call me Dottie … please.’

  ‘And Patsy?’

  Patsy was hiding behind Dottie’s skirt.

  Mrs Landers and Dottie shook hands. ‘Patsy, my dear, I’ve heard such wonderful things about you, I could hardly wait to meet you.’

  Patsy gave her a cautious stare.

  ‘John, you didn’t tell me she was so beautiful,’ cried Laura. ‘And what a pretty dress you have. Is it new?’

  Patsy nodded. ‘Auntie Dottie made it.’

  Laura Landers seemed impressed. ‘Then she’s an excellent needlewoman,’ she said, struggling to get out of the chair. ‘Now I wonder, Patsy, could you help me in the kitchen?’

  ‘I’d be pleased to give you a hand, Mrs Landers,’ said Dottie.

  ‘No, no, my dear. I’m sure Patsy is big enough to help me with the tea things, aren’t you, Patsy?’

  Patsy beamed, her chest swelling with pride.

  They went off together hand in hand, leaving Dottie alone with John.

  ‘She does you credit,’ he said.

  ‘Not me,’ Dottie insisted. ‘Her mother.’

  He motioned her to sit down. ‘Last time we met,’ he said, ‘you said Patsy was happy and settled, but your husband was still finding it hard to adjust to parenthood.’

  Dottie nodded. ‘He still is,’ she said, ‘but I am hoping he will come round soon.’

  ‘So do I.’ His smile was a little disconcerting. ‘I feel somehow responsible, Dottie. I made a few too many presumptions when I wrote to him. For a start, I thought he’d already seen his daughter, but according to Brenda, Sandy lost touch with him before she had the baby.’ He paused. ‘Do you know anything about your husband’s ancestry? I mean, were his parents people of colour?’

  Dottie stiffened. Please don’t probe too deeply, she thought. ‘Reg does
n’t talk about his past but I believe he was brought up in a children’s home,’ she said cautiously.

  John looked at her apologetically. ‘You know, I only want to make sure Patsy has the very best she can.’

  ‘Then we both want the same thing.’

  Being so close to him, Dottie could hardly breathe. She certainly couldn’t hold his gaze so she turned her attention to the dog, which was sitting at her feet. She bent to pat her, calling her a good girl. For a sickening minute, it reminded her of Reg. That’s what he’d called her that night he raped her. If she kept her hand moving, hopefully John wouldn’t notice it was trembling.

  Patsy reappeared with a plate of sandwiches. She put them on the table and walked over to Dottie, then put her arm around Dottie’s shoulders and her mouth next to her ear. ‘We’ve got chocolate cake,’ she whispered excitedly.

  After their tea, John suggested they take the dog for a short walk.

  ‘A good idea,’ said his mother. ‘I’ll clear the tea things while you’re gone.’

  ‘Let me help,’ Dottie said, but Mrs Landers wouldn’t hear of it.

  Patsy was thrilled to be holding Minnie’s lead. They ran on ahead while John and Dottie walked together.

  ‘I used to dream about this place all the time when I was in Australia,’ said John, ‘but it has never seemed as wonderful as it does right now.’

  ‘Did you spend the war in Australia?’

  ‘Heavens, no,’ he laughed. ‘As soon as I’d qualified, I was called up. I began my war in a corvette but then we were torpedoed. After that, it was a destroyer. We were mostly on convoy duties.’

  ‘Not an easy time,’ said Dottie recalling the Pathé newsreels she’d seen during the war.

  ‘You could say that,’ he laughed, ‘but being in the navy gave me a thirst for adventure. Look, there’s some more blackberries.’ He pointed to a hedge bowed down with brambles. The blackberries were plump and ready for picking. ‘Fancy some?’

  ‘They’d make a wonderful pie,’ she said, ‘but we’ve nothing to carry them in.’