A Broken Family (40 page)

She had dressed Bobby warmly and pushed the pram to the café on Lavender Hill, glad to see that Carol was already there. They ordered a coffee each and then Amy forced another smile as she said, ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘Don’t be daft. It’s good to see you, but how are you coping?’

The sympathy was Amy’s undoing and blinking back tears she said, ‘It’s been awful since Jeremy died. Celia’s in a terrible state and Tommy only speaks to me when he has to. At night, in bed, he … he just turns his back to me.’

Carol frowned in thought. ‘Maybe it’s his way of dealing with his grief. Perhaps he’s sort of closed in on himself.’

‘I wish it was just that, but I’m worried sick,’ Amy said, going on to tell Carol about Jeremy trying to smother Tommy.

‘Amy, surely he wasn’t trying to kill him?’

‘Tommy said he wasn’t, but I don’t believe it, and what if Jeremy told him why he was doing it? What if he told him about Bobby?’

‘If that happened, surely Tommy would have told you, confronted you?’

‘Maybe he was going to, but Jeremy died that same morning and … and since then, as I said, Tommy’s hardly spoken to me.’

‘I still think it’s his grief, Tommy’s way of dealing with it.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Amy said, finding that sharing her bottled-up fears with Carol had helped a little. Bobby began to grizzle so she lifted him out of the pram, saying as she did so, ‘All we’ve talked about is me. How’s your mum, your brothers and of course Eddy?’

‘They’re all fine, and I’ve got a bit of news, though I’m not sure this is the best time to tell you.’

‘It’ll be nice to talk about something else, so go on, spit it out,’ Amy encouraged.

‘Eddy wants us to get married later this year.’

‘Really? When?’

‘In September, though we haven’t fixed a firm date yet. It won’t be a big do, just the registry office and a small party afterwards, rather like your wedding.’

Carol went on happily talking about what dress she might wear, what hat, while Amy found that her thoughts kept straying to her own problems. Was it grief that had made Tommy close in on himself as Carol suggested
–
or was it that Jeremy had told him the truth about Bobby? It was the uncertainty that Amy was finding unbearable, her nerves almost at breaking point, but somehow she had to carry on.

Tommy was doing his best to catch up on the paperwork, but thanks to Len the most immediate things had been dealt with. He had a lot to thank his foreman for, not least that for the time being Len had taken over sorting out the wages and paying the men. His mother was in no fit state to handle the accounts, and he doubted that she would be for some time, yet somehow Tommy knew that for the sake of his employees and their jobs, he had to carry on.

As he looked at the invoice in front of him the figures blurred as unbidden, his tortured thoughts returned to Jeremy. The last time he had seen his brother haunted Tommy’s mind; the things Jeremy had said as he had forcibly pressed a pillow onto his face. At first he’d refused to believe that Jeremy had tried to kill him, but the more he relived the memory of that morning, the more the doubts had set in. It didn’t make sense that Jeremy would claim to be Bobby’s father if it wasn’t true.

He could barely look at Amy now, and at least at the unit he was out of the house. Tommy knew that he couldn’t go on like this; that he would have to have it out with Amy soon, but the thought of being told that Bobby wasn’t his son, tore him apart. He didn’t want to face it yet – couldn’t face it yet, and when the telephone rang Tommy snatched it up, glad to escape his tortured thoughts as his mind snapped back to work and a customer asking for a quote.

As the days passed the stress continued to take its toll on Amy, and her milk dried up. She had to put Bobby on a milk formula, but at first he rejected the teat on the bottle. It was Celia who managed to coax him, and as they smiled at each other in relief, for the first time Amy felt an affinity with her mother-in-law.

On Monday, the day of the funeral, the sky was low, with a dark grey blanket of cloud hanging over Lark Rise. Tommy had shut the unit for the day and when the hearse slowly drove off, only two cars followed it. Celia was sitting between Thomas and Amy in the first one, a black veil masking her anguished features. The second car held Amy’s parents, along with Samuel and Rose, just seven of them to attend the service
–
but when they got to the chapel Amy saw Len Upwood and his wife standing outside, along with other men who worked for Thomas and who bowed their heads in respect when the coffin was lifted from the hearse.

Tommy took his mother’s arm as they walked behind the coffin bearers into the chapel, where sombre music played. When they were all seated, the service began, but Amy hardly took in a word of what was said. She was cold, the pew hard, and when they were asked to stand Tommy was as rigid as a statue beside her. She felt the gulf between them, but felt powerless to bridge it.

The last hymn was sung, but they still had to go to the graveside for the interment. There were coughs, the shuffle of feet as they made their way out of the chapel, but close to the back two people were just leaving their pew. It was the couple she had seen in a car at the registry office, and this time there was no mistaking them.

Celia must have noticed them too for there was a gasp, yet they were outside before there was a confrontation. Amy was expecting fireworks, but instead Celia held her head high and in a dignified manner, nodded to her husband and Lena Winters before regally walking past them.

‘I didn’t know what to expect,’ George said as he turned to Tommy. ‘At least your mother didn’t do her nut.’

‘Dad, how could you do this to her, and today of all days?’

‘Now look, I saw a piece about Jeremy’s accident in the local paper and it shocked me to the core. He’s my son too and I have every right to come to his funeral.’

‘You didn’t have to bring
her
with you,’ Tommy snapped, before hurrying after his mother.

George went after him, but then he stopped and just stood, looking at his son’s retreating back.

‘I told George I shouldn’t have come,’ Lena Winters said to Amy.

She looked at her former manageress and said coldly, ‘I never guessed. I should have, especially on those occasions when we supposedly bumped into each other. You always encouraged me to talk about Tommy.’

‘I’m sorry for the deception, but it kept George in touch with his son’s life for a while.’

‘I can’t work this out. How did you meet each other?’

‘It was just by chance. I had a broken window, called a local firm and George came to repair it. We talked, got on well, and it just sort of went from there.’

George came back and said, ‘Everyone is heading for the interment.’

‘You go, George. I’ll wait in the car until you’re ready to leave,’ Lena said.

Amy walked away from them to join the others in the sad procession through the cemetery. Jeremy was now going to be put into the ground, his final resting place, but there was no rest for Amy’s tortured thoughts. This was the man who had raped her, the true father of her son, and though dead now, he still threatened to tear her life apart.

Tommy had his arm around his mother and could feel her trembling. He would never know how she managed to hold it together, to show such dignity and composure when it was now obvious that she was deeply upset. If his father had come alone, it might just have been all right, but to bring that woman with him must have been like a slap in the face.

Though he was furious with his father, it did nothing to stop the biting wind from cutting him to the core as they stood by the freshly dug grave. He was aware that Amy had come to stand by his side, but didn’t acknowledge her presence. His father was at least standing alone now, a little apart from everyone else, his eyes lowered as the vicar intoned while the coffin was being lowered.

There was a sob and as he felt his mother sag, Tommy did his best to support her, until at last, after she threw a single white rose onto the coffin, he was able to lead her away. They were heading for the car when they were approached by Len Upwood, his wife and the other men.

‘We’re off now,’ Len said, ‘but we’d just like to offer your mother our condolences.’

‘Thank you,’ she said with a tremor in her voice, ‘and thank you all for coming.’

Tommy knew she was making a supreme effort, and was relieved when with a few more murmured words of condolence, they drifted away. It wasn’t over yet though and as they reached the car, his father walked up to them, saying, ‘Celia, can we talk?’

‘I’ve got nothing to say to you, except that I want a divorce,’ she said and climbed into the car, adding before she closed the door, ‘I will expect to hear from your solicitor.’

Tommy didn’t want to talk to his father either, as seeing him only added to the pent-up emotions he was trying to hold in check. Amy walked up to them with her parents, while Rose and Samuel stood a short distance apart. ‘Come on, Amy, we’re leaving,’ Tommy said curtly.

‘We’ll see you back at the house,’ Phyllis called as Amy got into the car.

Tommy climbed in too, ignoring his father, his gaze set rigidly ahead as the car drove off.

Stan walked up to George Frost and said, ‘It’s a sad day, but after all this time I didn’t expect to see you here.’

‘Jeremy was my son and I had to come. Until I saw that bit about the accident in the local paper, I didn’t even know he was back in the country.’

‘There’s a lot you don’t know. For instance, you’ve got a grandson.’

‘A grandson! I had no idea.’

‘I don’t get it, George. When a man walks out on his wife it isn’t a criminal offence, so why have you been laying low?’

‘You have no idea what Celia is like. If she had been able to find me, she’d have made my life a misery, but I kept an eye on Tommy for as long as I could. I knew he was making a success of the business and once he married Amy I felt he was fine, settled.’

‘When you left, it was Tommy who had to pick up the pieces and take care of his mother financially. It was a lot to put on his young shoulders.’

‘Maybe, but he coped,’ George said dismissively. ‘Celia just asked me for a divorce so it seems she’s moved on. It means I can come out of the woodwork now and it’ll be great to see my grandson.’

‘Come on, Stan, it’s time we were leaving,’ Phyllis called.

‘I’m coming,’ he said, but before walking away from the man he now saw as a selfish pig, Stan left a parting shot. ‘George, from what I saw and heard, Tommy wasn’t pleased to see you. If you turn up at his door, I doubt you’d get a warm welcome and if he slams it in your face, I wouldn’t blame him.’

Mabel had stepped in and offered to look after Bobby while they attended the funeral, but he had been fretful that morning and Amy was anxious to collect him. She needn’t have worried. He was sound asleep on Mabel’s sofa, a blanket over him, while little Sandra was quietly playing with a doll.

‘He’s been no trouble,’ Mabel said, smiling fondly down on him. ‘He went to sleep soon after I gave him his bottle.’

‘Can we keep him, Auntie Mabel?’ Sandra asked as she awkwardly scrambled to her feet. ‘I want to play with Bobby when he wakes up.’

‘No, I’m afraid we can’t, darling. His mummy has come to take him home.’

‘Thanks for looking after him, Mabel,’ Amy said as she gently lifted Bobby into her arms.

‘Any time, love.’

‘I’d best get back. Mum made some sandwiches and a few other bits and pieces which she’s put out on my dining table, though I doubt Samuel and Rose will stay for long. I think they can see that Celia is only just holding it together.’

‘I haven’t had much time for Celia in the past, but I know what it’s like to lose a child and my heart goes out to her now.’

Amy couldn’t imagine how she’d cope if anything happened to Bobby and found her arms tightening around him. She thanked Mabel again for looking after him and then went home, feeling the familiar tension as soon as she walked in the door. Somehow she got through the next couple of hours, until at last when Rose and Samuel left, and Tommy took his mother home, she was left with her parents.

‘Amy, is everything all right between you and Tommy?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Amy said, hiding the truth.

‘Are you sure? From what I’ve seen Tommy hardly speaks to you.’

Amy clutched for Carol’s words and said, ‘He’s grieving, Mum. Tommy’s way of dealing with it is by closing in on himself and shutting off his emotions.’

‘Men react differently to women so I can understand that,’ Stan said. ‘I don’t suppose it helped when George Frost came out of the woodwork today.’

‘Yes, it must have been a shock for Celia, let alone Tommy,’ Phyllis agreed. ‘Well, as long as you’re all right we’ll be off, Amy.’

‘I’m fine, Mum,’ she said, managing a small smile, which left her face as soon as her parents left.

Tommy was sitting opposite his mother, in no hurry to go home. His emotions were locked inside, yet they were threatening to erupt. Every time he looked at Amy he had to clench his jaws to stop words of vitriol spewing from his mouth.

‘I can’t believe your father turned up today, and to bring that woman …’ Celia said as tears flooded her eyes.

‘Mum, other women might have lost it, screamed at him like a fishwife, but you were incredible, dignified and … and I was so proud of you.’