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Authors: Kitty Neale

BOOK: A Broken Family
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The two women smiled at each other, both knowing that another cup of tea would be shared later that day. Mabel left by the back door again and closed it behind her, unaware that as soon as Phyllis stood up, she had swayed for a moment before crashing, unconscious, onto the floor.

Carol was clock watching. Luckily her lunch break was
always at twelve thirty, and Amy’s at one fifteen, each of them allotted forty-five minutes

which was generous of their manageress, Lena Winters, as some shop assistants only got half an hour.

Miss Winters was in her forties, and though she had crooked teeth, she was quite an attractive woman. Carol often wondered why she had never married, but she
had told them little about herself, only that she lived alone above a shop on Northcote Road. As their manageress, Miss Winters kept herself a little aloof and as
questions
about her private life weren’t welcomed, they knew little about her.

The shop wasn’t busy; it rarely was on a Monday, and she and Amy had been given the task of checking stocks. Carol was up a ladder in the back room, calling out any sizes that had sold out, but paused to say, ‘Well, what did you think of him?’

‘Carol, that’s the umpteenth time you’ve asked me. As I’ve said before, I think he looks a bit old for you.’

‘I reckon he’s in his late twenties and I don’t see anything wrong with that, after all, I’ll be eighteen next month. Oh, I can’t wait for my lunch break.’

‘You’ve only got ten minutes to go.’

‘Does my hair still look all right?’ Carol asked worriedly.

‘Its fine, now what did you say about size five?’

‘We’re out of the D width.’

‘Amy, we have customers. Can you come out front, please,’
Miss Winters called.

As her friend scuttled off, Carol descended the ladder. She would go to the toilet, touch up her make-up and then it would be time to go. Her tummy was fluttering with nerves as she applied a dab of powder and fresh lipstick. She had only been out with boys of her own age and this time she was feeling out of her depth.

With one last look in the mirror Carol went out to the shop and spoke to Miss Winters. ‘Will it be all right if I go to lunch now?’

‘Yes, off you go,’ the woman agreed.

Amy was on one knee, helping an old lady to try on some shoes, but she looked up and grinned as Carol passed. With a tight smile on her face, Carol left the shop and soon she was hurrying to the Nelson Café which
was a short distance up St John’s Hill. She hoped he was already there as she opened the door and glanced quickly around, relieved to see him sitting alone at a table. He waved a hand at her and as Carol approached, he pulled out a chair.

‘Take a pew,’ he said, smiling.

‘Thanks,’ Carol replied.

‘I wasn’t sure you’d come. Do you usually have your lunch in here?’ he asked.

‘No, I don’t, but it looks all right,’ she said, her eyes flicking round the café.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Carol. What’s yours?’

‘Roy,’ he replied and handed Carol the menu as the waitress approached. ‘What are you having to eat?’

Carol took a quick look to find the cheapest thing and ordered an egg and chips, while Roy asked for shepherd’s pie. She usually took a sandwich for lunch to save money, but she’d been up late that morning and a cooked meal would make a nice change.

‘Would you like something to drink?’ the waitress asked.

‘A Pepsi, please,’ Carol said, while Roy ordered a cup of coffee.

‘Do you live around here?’ he asked as the waitress walked away.

‘Yes, at the bottom of Lark Rise, off Lavender Hill. Do you know it?’

‘No, I can’t say I do.’

‘Where do you live then?’ Carol asked, thinking that Roy really was handsome as she took in his hazel eyes.

He looked away for a moment, but then said, ‘In Tooting.’

Carol didn’t know much about that area and found herself floundering for something to say, only coming up with, ‘Do you live with your parents?’

His eyes widened. ‘You must be joking. I flew the nest years ago.’

Carol tensed, and asked, ‘Are you married?’

‘Nah, I’m still foot loose and fancy free. I’ve got my own place though, only a small flat, but it suits me fine.’

‘Really,’ Carol said, impressed. All her previous boyfriends, like her, still lived with their parents. She still didn’t know how old Roy was and felt he might even be in his early thirties, yet she really fancied him. He had a round face, with dark blonde, crew-cut hair. His neck was short over wide shoulders, and she could just imagine his muscular torso; Carol hated long, thin men and saw them as puny. She was snapped out of her reverie when Roy spoke.

‘Now that you’ve had a good look, I hope you like what you see,’ he said, smiling.

Aware then that she had been staring at him, Carol flushed, but she still managed to quip, ‘I was looking
through
you, not
at
you.’

‘If you say so, but I’ve been clocking you too and I like what I see. You’re a nice-looking bird, but how old are you?’

‘I’m not sure I like being called a bird, but thanks for
the compliment and I’m twenty-three,’ Carol lied, thinking that if he knew she wasn’t yet eighteen there’d be no chance of a date.

Their drinks arrived, followed soon after by their food, and as they ate Carol found that their eyes kept meeting across the table. Would Roy want to take her out? She hoped so, and then at last, between mouthfuls, he asked, ‘Are you seeing anyone?’

‘Not at the moment,’ she replied, wondering if this was the moment.

‘In that case, can I take you out to dinner on Friday?’

Carol was startled. That was different. Most boys just suggested the pictures, or dancing, but then again Roy wasn’t a boy. He was a man. She didn’t want to appear gauche or unsophisticated, so she hid her surprise and said, ‘Yes, that would be lovely.’

‘I’ve got a car so do you want me to pick you up, or would you rather meet somewhere?’ Roy asked.

‘As you don’t know Lark Rise, we could meet outside Arding & Hobbs.’

‘Okay. Shall we say eight o’clock?’

‘That’s fine.’

‘It’s a date then,’ Roy said, grinning.

Carol was already wondering what to wear as they continued to eat, and as soon as they had finished Roy beckoned the waitress over to ask for the bill. ‘Sorry,’ he said when she went to fetch it, ‘I only get a half hour break and I’d best get back. You stay and finish your Pepsi.’

‘Let me give you my share of the bill.’

‘No, have it on me,’ Roy said, and after going to the counter to settle up, he turned to give Carol a wink and then left.

Carol sat back, sipping her drink with a small smile playing round her lips. It was her half day off on Wednesday and she’d look around the shops, sure that she’d be able to get round her dad to give her a few bob towards a new dress. She’d find something really sophisticated that would impress Roy.

For Carol, Friday couldn’t come quickly enough.

Chapter Four

When Phyllis had come round after fainting, she’d felt disoriented and bleary eyed. What had happened? Her head had been throbbing and she wondered if she’d hit it on something. After struggling to sit up another wave of dizziness had swept over her. She’d remained still until it passed, and then had managed to heave herself onto a chair. It was the first time in her life that Phyllis had fainted, so the feeling of nausea was unexpected. She’d fought the urge to be sick, swallowing bile as she shivered in shock. It had been a surprise to find that only minutes had passed, but why had she fainted? She wasn’t ill. She was just tired, that was all, and at last, giving in, Phyllis had gone upstairs to lie down.

It was now three hours later and Phyllis woke up feeling a lot better. It must have been exhaustion; that, or the fact that she wasn’t eating properly. Yet they had survived on a lot less to eat during the war. Despite that thought, Phyllis knew that she had lost weight, her arms thin and her ribs showing when she undressed. She hid it well, wearing an extra jumper with a thick cardigan most of the time, and so far nobody had noticed. Anyway, she’d never been fat, so that couldn’t be the reason for her lack of energy.

Phyllis changed her rumpled clothes and applied a little lipstick to give her face a bit of colour, but as she hadn’t done her washing, no doubt when Mabel turned up again in about half an hour she’d know that something was up.

For now though, Phyllis was worried about Winnie. She hadn’t been to check on her since early that morning and now she hurried next door, pleased to see that the old lady was all right. Winnie’s living room was as gloomy as her own, Phyllis thought, with ancient wallpaper and dull, dark furniture. She should polish it, Phyllis thought guiltily, make things look a bit more cheerful for Winnie, but with two cleaning jobs and her own housework to do, she just didn’t have the energy. Managing a smile she said, ‘Sorry, love, I’m a bit behind today and you must be dying for a drink.’

‘I’ve been dozing on and off all morning, but yes, I must admit I’m thirsty,’ Winnie admitted.

‘I’ll make you a cuppa,’ Phyllis offered and soon Winnie was sipping it with pleasure.

However her expression suddenly became sombre and she said, ‘Phyllis, I know my Harry passed away, but sometimes I think I can hear him speaking to me. You’ll probably think I’m mad, but somehow I think I’ll be joining him soon.’

‘Oh, don’t say that, Winnie.’

‘Now don’t get upset. I’ve had a good innings and I’m ready to go.’

‘All you’re probably hearing is our voices through the thin walls. On the other hand you may be coming down with something, so I’ll get the doctor in to take a look at you.’

‘There’s no need,’ Winnie protested. ‘I’m fine, as well as I can be, and I don’t know why people are so afraid to talk about death. We’ve all got to go sometime, and I just think that my number’s coming up, that’s all.’

‘You’ve got years in you,’ Phyllis protested, ‘and I’m not going to listen to any more of this. Now I’ll pour you another cup of tea and then I’ll be back later with your dinner. If you need me before that, thump on the wall as usual.’

‘I’ll do that, and thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

Phyllis managed a small smile, yet she was unable to help noticing how frail Winnie looked. She still managed to use the commode unassisted, but going upstairs to bed proved impossible and now Winnie slept in a single one that had been pushed up against their adjoining wall in the living room.

With a heavy heart, Phyllis returned home where moments later Mabel turned up, saying as she came in, ‘I could do with a cuppa so put the kettle on, mate.’

‘It wouldn’t suit me,’ Phyllis said, ‘but as I always seem to be making pots of tea maybe I should open a café.’

‘Very funny, but why didn’t you put your washing out to dry? There’s no sign of rain.’

‘I didn’t do it.’

‘I knew you weren’t up to it, but you insisted you were all right,’ Mabel admonished.

‘Yeah, well, as you saw I was worn out and when you left I sort of passed out for a minute or two.’

‘You did what!’

‘It was nothing,’ Phyllis said quickly. ‘Once I’d had a bit of a kip I was fine, but you could have knocked me down with a feather when I realised I’d slept for over three hours.’

‘You must have needed it, and it looks like it’s done you a lot of good. You look heaps better.’

Phyllis refrained from saying that though she was only forty, she felt twenty years older than that as she filled the kettle.

‘Leave that, I’ll do it,’ Mabel said. ‘You sit yourself down.’

‘You just said I look heaps better.’

‘Yeah, you do, but I ain’t fooled by that lipstick. You’re still a bit pale.’

Phyllis didn’t argue and as she prepared the drinks, Mabel continued to chat. ‘Daphne Cole got her washing done. I looked out of my bedroom window over to her yard and saw her sheets and towels were gleaming white when she hung them out, but of course she’s better off than us with that boiler thing she’s got. I still think she should sort her daughter out though. If she doesn’t, mark my words, Carol will come to no good.’

Phyllis ignored the comment, only saying, ‘At least we don’t have to spend time grating our soap now. I think this new washing powder that’s come out is marvellous.’

‘Yeah, it is, but I must tell you what I heard this morning.’

Phyllis was used to this. Mabel thrived on gossip, but Phyllis knew why and understood. It was something that kept Mabel’s mind occupied; a tool she used to shut out the grief that still tortured her. She and Jack had lost their only child, a little boy, to measles when he was only three years old. They hadn’t had any more children, and though no reason could be found, it was as though something in Mabel had died too.

Phyllis had always wanted another child too, but though trying, Amy had remained the only one. At least she had her daughter, while poor Mabel had been left childless. Few remained on Lark Rise who remembered what Mabel had been through, or if they did, any sympathy they had once felt had long been forgotten.

With a sigh, Phyllis just wished Mabel would find something else to do with her time, something that could be meaningful, but after all these years she’d run out of suggestions. ‘All right, Mabel, as you’re keen to tell me, what have you heard?’

‘That cousin of yours, Rose, has got her eye on someone.’

Phyllis’s lips tightened. Rose was always the subject of local gossip and she said, ‘Don’t tell me it’s a married man again.’

‘To be honest it was only a snippet and no names were mentioned. Of course she’s had her eye on the landlord’s agent for ages, so it might be him. If it is, I don’t know what she sees in the ugly sod. I told him that my roof is leaking ages ago, but he still hasn’t got the landlord to sort it out.’

‘Keep on at him,’ Phyllis advised.

‘Yeah, I will. My back bedroom is in a right state and every time it rains I have to put a bucket under the leak. It’s just as well I don’t use it,’ Mabel said, her expression saddening.

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