A Broken Family (11 page)

Thomas passed it to her and said, ‘Mum, let me get dressed then I’ll come downstairs and we can sort this out.’

‘Yes, yes, all right,’ she agreed.

It wasn’t long before Thomas walked into the living room, but by that time Celia was sitting with his letter clutched in her hand. It was bad enough that George had gone off with another woman, but he had also left her financial future in the hands of their son. ‘Did you know about this?’ she snapped, waving the letter.

‘Of course not.’

‘Surely you noticed something, had some inkling.’

‘Not really, though Dad’s been giving me more responsibility at work, sorting the books and things. I didn’t realise that he had a problem until then. Did you know?’

‘Yes, of course, but he would never accept my help,’ Celia said as her stomach began to churn. George had left her! Why hadn’t she seen the signs? They had been there, she now realised, thinking about how George had been going out more lately, but she had never suspected that he was seeing another woman. Her emotions were on a rollercoaster; first there had been shock, then anger, but now the tears came – tears she couldn’t stem, and her body shook with emotion. Thomas tried to comfort her, but she pushed away from him.

‘Mum,’ he said, ‘you can’t go on like this. I’m going next door to get Libby.’

‘No! No, don’t do that,’ Celia cried, unable to bear the shame of it, the gossip that would fly when it became known that George had left her. With a supreme effort she fought to calm down, able to say at last, ‘I’m all right now.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, yes, I’ll make us both a cup of tea and then we’ll have to work out what we’re going to do,’ she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she went through to the kitchen. Anger and bitterness rose again to replace her tears. She had given George the best years of her life, and two sons, but he had left her for another woman. Well, whoever she was, she was welcome to him, Celia decided, determined not to let this beat her. But her bravado didn’t sustain her for long and she had to choke back a sob.

Rose looked around her small, dank flat for the last time, happy to leave it. She had fallen on her feet at last, even if she knew some would be scandalised when it came out
–
including her cousin Phyllis.

When there was a ring on her doorbell, Rose went to see who it was, hiding her impatience when she saw it was the woman who lived upstairs. Lydia was nice enough, but always looking to borrow something, and it soon became obvious she was at it again.

‘Rose, I’m sorry to ask, but my youngest won’t eat his porridge without sugar. Can you spare a couple of spoonfuls?’

Rose had left not only sugar, but a few other bits and pieces in her larder and said impulsively, ‘Yes, of course I can. Come in, Lydia.’

‘I can’t stop. I’ve got to get the kids off to school,’ she said while following Rose to the kitchen.

‘Here,’ Rose said, as she began to place the bag of sugar, along with a tin of corned beef, spam, and other bits and pieces into Lydia’s arms.

‘What are you doing? I only wanted a bit of sugar.’

‘I know, but I’m leaving so you might as well have what’s left in my cupboard.’

‘Leaving? Where are you going?’

‘This flat is riddled with damp and when another place came up I talked the landlord into letting me have it,’ Rose lied.

Lydia’s neck stretched with indignation. ‘I don’t think that’s fair. My flat is just as damp and as I’ve got kids he should have offered it to me.’

‘Tell that to the landlord.’

‘I’ve only had dealings with the agent so how come you got to speak to Mr Jacobs? I don’t even know how to get in touch with him.’

‘Where there’s a will there’s a way,’ Rose told her.

‘Give me his address or phone number then,’ Lydia demanded.

‘I don’t think he likes it bandied about, but you could try asking the agent.’

‘I will. You can be sure of that,’ Lydia said stiffly, but she kept hold of the food that Rose had given her as she marched out.

Rose was too happy to care. No more bar work at the Park Tavern, she thought, no more putting up with t
he owner’s gropin
g hands. She hadn’t told him she wa
s leaving. He
’d find out soon enough when she did
n’t
turn up for wo
rk, and until they found a replacement h
is fat,
lazy wife would have to do a bit of work for a change.

With a final look around, Rose picked up her suitcase. It was time to go – time to start her new life.

Amy was in the stock room with Carol. She tried to draw her friend out, but Carol didn’t want to talk. Amy felt as though she had lost her friend; the chatty, funny, vivacious girl she’d known was so different now that it was like trying to talk to a stranger. She still tried, saying now, ‘Did you go out over the weekend?’

‘No,’ was the short reply.

‘Tommy took me to the funfair in Battersea Park.’

‘Lucky you.’

There was a hint of sarcasm in Carol’s tone and struck by a thought, Amy said, ‘Are you annoyed with me because I’m still dating Tommy and we don’t see much of each other outside of work now?’

‘No. Why should I be?’

‘I know you don’t approve of him.’

‘Amy, I take back everything I said about Tommy. From what you’ve told me, he’s a decent bloke and believe me, as they’re few and far between you should hold on to him.’

‘Carol, you sound so bitter. Has someone hurt you? Let you down?’

‘Questions, questions! I’m sick of your questions,’ she said, her voice rising.

‘I’m sorry,’ Amy said quickly. ‘It’s just that I hate to see you like this and if I can, I want to help.’

The hard mask slipped, and looking as though she was about to cry, Carol said, ‘You can’t help me, Amy. Nobody can.’

‘What is going on out here?’ Mrs Jones, their new manageress, asked in a sharp voice. ‘I heard raised voices.’

‘Nothing, Mrs Jones,’ Amy said, drawing the woman’s eyes to her while Carol quickly looked down at the stock list. ‘I slipped a bit on the ladder, that’s all, and sort of yelped a bit.’

‘Well, be more careful in future and Carol, we have customers so I need you in the shop,’ the manageress said.

As the two of them left the stock room, Amy could have screamed. She had managed to get Carol talking at last, but now the moment had passed.

The rest of the day passed with little opportunity for her to speak privately to Carol again, but as they left work at five thirty, Amy knew she’d have a chance as they walked home.

‘Amy, I’ve got to go somewhere. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,’ Carol said, turning to quickly head off in the other direction.

Startled, and with no time to say anything, Amy was left to wonder where Carol was going, but came up with no answers. She walked home alone, going over and over in her mind what Carol had said that morning in the stock room. She had said that nobody could help her, but what did that mean?

When at last Amy turned into Lark Rise, an awful thought had begun to form. No, it couldn’t be that. As far as she knew Carol hadn’t been out with a boy for ages
–
but all thoughts of Carol were driven from her mind when she drew level with Tommy’s house and he came running out of the door to speak to her.

‘Amy, I’m sorry, but I can’t see you tonight.’

His face looked drawn and worriedly she said, ‘It’s all right, I don’t mind, but what’s wrong?’

‘I’m not supposed to say anything, but I know I can trust you to keep this to yourself. It’s my dad. He’s left my mum and she’s in a dreadful state. She’s been up and down all day, one minute angry; the next in tears.’

Tommy looked so upset, and laying a hand on his arm, she said, ‘Don’t worry, he’s sure to come back soon.’

‘I doubt that. He’s gone off with another woman.’

‘Oh, Tommy, no wonder your mum’s in a state.’

‘I’ll have to get back to her, but if I can, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Amy stood on tiptoe to kiss him, and giving her a swift hug, Tommy went back inside. She thought she saw the lace curtains twitch, as though his mother had been watching them, yet for once she felt sorry for her. Amy sadly walked the rest of the way home.

‘Why the long face?’ Phyllis asked her daughter when she arrived home from work.

Amy hesitated for a fraction of a minute, but then said, ‘I can’t tell you unless you both promise to keep it to yourself?’

‘Keep what to ourselves?’ Phyllis asked.

‘Promise me first,’ Amy urged.

‘All right, all right, I promise,’ Phyllis agreed.

‘Dad?’ Amy asked, looking at him.

‘I’m not interested in women’s gossip, but yeah, all right.’

Amy hesitated for a moment again, but then said, ‘Tommy’s dad has gone off with another woman. He said his mum’s in a terrible state.’

Phyllis’s stomach turned as she asked, ‘What woman?’

‘I don’t know,’ Amy said.

To Phyllis’s surprise, it was Stan who voiced her thoughts.

‘I can guess,’ he said. ‘I reckon he’s gone off with Rose.’

‘Auntie Rose?’ Amy exclaimed, her eyes widening with surprise.

‘I know I told you to call her auntie when you were a child, but you can drop it now. She’s your second cousin,’ Phyllis said. ‘But, Stan, what makes you think she’s gone off with Tommy’s dad?’

‘I’ve seen her flirting with George when he’s in the Park Tavern,’ Stan told her.

‘That doesn’t mean anything. My cousin flirts with anything in trousers,’ Phyllis said, though inwardly felt she was clutching at straws.

‘Yeah, that’s true,’ Stan conceded. ‘But if she isn’t behind the bar this evening, I reckon I’ll be proved right.’

Phyllis looked at her daughter and saw that the ramifications hadn’t sunk in yet. She dreaded to think how Celia Frost would react when she found out that her husband had run off with a member of their family. Amy had looked so happy lately, but now, thanks to Rose, all that was likely to change.

Frank Cole arrived home from work that same evening, hungry and ready for his dinner, but walked into a silent house. Daphne wasn’t in the kitchen, and he was puzzled to find that she wasn’t upstairs either. He was annoyed that she hadn’t left a note to say where she was going, but at least Carol would be home soon and she might know where her mother was.

When over half an hour passed with no sign of Daphne or his daughter, Frank began to worry. He hurried to t
he Millers’
house, saying when Amy opened the door, ‘Did Carol walk home with you?’

‘Err … no. She said something about having to go somewhere.’

‘Did she say anything about meeting up with her mother?’

‘No,’ Amy said, shaking her head.

‘All right, thanks,’ Frank said, suddenly struck by an idea. Perhaps Daphne’s mother was ill and they were both round there.

He hurried off and it didn’t take him long to reach his mother-in-law’s house, where he rang the doorbell. Daphne had been an only child, a late one, and his mother-in-law, Edna Newman, was in her seventies now. She looked a bit surprised to see him, but without preamble he asked, ‘Is Daphne here?’

‘No she isn’t and I haven’t seen her all day. Some daughter she’s turned out to be.’

Frank thought Edna must have gone senile. ‘Leave it out. Daphne’s always around here.’

‘That’s only because she prefers my company to yours.’

Frank’s jaws clenched, but he ground out, ‘What about Carol? Is she here?’

‘You must be joking. I haven’t seen her for ages. Now I’ve got things to do, so bugger off.’

With that the door slammed shut, leaving Frank both angry at the old witch’s attitude, yet bewildered too. Where the hell were his wife and daughter? He couldn’t think of anywhere else to try, so he returned home.

It was after nine thirty in the evening before one of them turned up; by that time Frank was so out of his mind with worry that he was about to go to the police station.

‘Where have you been?’ he yelled at his daughter when she walked in.

‘Out with a mate,’ was Carol’s terse reply.

‘Where’s your mother?’

‘I don’t know. Isn’t she here?’

‘No, she flaming well isn’t. Have you got any idea where she might have gone?’

‘She’s probably round Gran’s house.’

‘I’ve checked there and your gran said she hasn’t seen your mother today.’

‘That doesn’t make sense. Mum’s always round there.’

‘Your gran might be going batty, but it doesn’t change the fact that your mother wasn’t there,’ Frank said, running both hands through his hair in agitation.

‘Mum can’t have gone far; she’s sure to turn up soon.’

‘She’d better,’ he growled, then turning his anger on his daughter, ‘and as for you, my girl, what are you playing at? You went straight out from work and I had no idea where you were either. I’m not having it – in future I don’t want you disappearing without telling me where you’re going!’

‘Yes, all right,’ Carol said meekly. ‘Dad, I’m sorry, but I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.’

Frank frowned, noticing for the first time that his daughter looked a bit washed out and pale. ‘Yeah, yeah, all right, but aren’t you worried about your mother?’

‘No. Not really. As I said, she’s sure to be home soon, but in that mood you’re bound to have a row. I don’t want to stay up to listen to it.’

With that, Carol went upstairs while Frank sat down again. Yes, his daughter was right. When Daphne showed her face, he’d have a few things to say to her
–
and he wouldn’t be doing it quietly.

Carol was curled up in bed, hating what she’d done. Yet what choice had there been? She was sure that if she’d waited any longer her parents would have seen the tell-
tale bump that was starting to show. They’d have gone mad, but at least this way they would never know anything about it.

It had been awful to go to that woman’s house – terrifying to endure what had been done to her, but at least it was over now. The woman had said that there’d be pain later, but so far Carol felt fine, though she was mentally and emotionally exhausted. She closed her eyes, and at last drifted into a troubled sleep.