A Daughter's Disgrace (11 page)

‘It was Winnie’s sister Beryl who had the problem,’ Cora went on. ‘This family next door were the lowest of the low, filthy habits and disgusting language. There weren’t no mother, just three grown lads and a drunken father who gambled away all their money. The place was a disgrace and they were always fighting. Beryl could hear the lot. Well, guess what. They’ve only gone and done a flit.’

‘No!’ Hazel’s eyes widened. She loved a bit of gossip as much as her mother. It was always good to hear about someone worse off than herself.

‘Poor woman,’ said Neville. ‘We won’t ever get in a mess like that, Hazel.’

‘I should think not,’ said Cora. ‘You come from a respectable family. Not like those Lannings.’

Alison thought she must have misheard.

‘Did you say Lannings?’

‘Yes, that was their name. Why, do you know them? How on earth would you know someone like that?’

Alison felt her blood run cold. She stuttered as she replied. ‘That’s the name of the assistant in the ironmonger’s next door to Fred’s shop. It might be a coincidence though.’

‘Might be,’ said Cora dubiously. ‘Not a common name, is it? I’d have thought a respectable shopkeeper would think twice before employing someone like that. I’m surprised at him.’

‘Well, it’s not as if it was Fred who made the mistake,’ said Neville. ‘I really had better be off. Hazel, let me see your hand one more time to check I got it absolutely right. If I say so myself that is a good ring. You look even more beautiful now and I didn’t think that was possible.’

Alison took advantage of the moment to run upstairs to her tiny box room. She couldn’t stand one moment more of all the lovey-dovey behaviour but more importantly she needed a moment to think about the bombshell her mother had dropped. She could hear Cora tutting and Hazel saying ‘Leave her, she’s just jealous’, as she threw herself on her narrow bed. Good, let them think that. She had far more urgent matters on her mind. So Paul was gone for good. He came from a terrible family. In one way that was just as well – he’d never have been a proper boyfriend and she was well rid of him. She should be glad. But she’d hoped for so much. It didn’t matter that she’d got it wrong. For once in her life she had dreamed of this being someone who would love her and who she could love back, and now it wasn’t going to happen. It was never going to happen. She was ugly and worthless and everything about her was useless. How completely stupid she had been to imagine it could have been different.

Hugging her pillow she tried to stifle the sob that rose unstoppably in her throat. She’d been too shocked to cry after he attacked her on Friday. Now all the sorrow and fear and hurt came flooding out and she wept as if her heart would break. Her fantasies of a boyfriend who would take care of her were nothing but ashes and she didn’t think she would ever get over it.

Linda had almost forgotten the reason why there was a new lock on the shed. True to his word, Terry had made sure the boxes were collected only a few days after they’d been delivered and she hadn’t had to see any of it. June had been intrigued by the shiny new lock for about three minutes and had then lost interest. It was as if it had never happened.

That meant she wasn’t particularly pleased when Terry made his announcement a few weeks later. ‘I’ve said they can use our shed again.’

‘Who?’ she asked, at first misunderstanding.

‘Best you don’t know any names,’ he said at once. ‘What you don’t know can’t hurt you. And it’ll only be for a few days, like before.’

Then it dawned on her what he was on about. ‘Must we, Terry? You know I didn’t like it last time.’

‘But you liked the extra money in the bank,’ he pointed out. ‘That’s all saved away for our moving-house fund. This way we’ll be able to add to it.’

‘I know, I know.’ Linda couldn’t deny it. ‘But do we really have to? Maybe there’s another way to save up. Now June’s that bit older, perhaps I could get a part-time job …’

‘No. Absolutely not. No wife of mine is going to go out to work. We always said I’d be the provider. June needs you at home, not out messing around in an office or shop. We don’t want her looked after by strangers – who knows what habits she’d pick up? My family are at the other end of the country and it would take too long to get her to yours. No, you can’t be leaving her at this tender age.’

Linda sighed and twisted the tea towel she was holding round and round in her hands. ‘I know that’s what we always said. I don’t want to have anyone else look after her, not really. I’m just trying to think of a way we don’t have to put ourselves at risk.’

‘Life’s a risk.’ Terry put his arms around her. ‘Sometimes you just got to take a chance. And this will be worth it, believe me.’

‘What? What’s different this time?’ Linda had picked up on his tone of voice, the one he always used when he was trying to avoid telling her the full story.

‘Nothing. Not really. It’ll be a bit more stuff, that’s all. It will all fit, there’s no problem with that. Don’t you start worrying over nothing.’

‘It’s not over nothing, is it? You just said it was more stuff. Do you know what it is?’

‘Best we don’t ask,’ he said seriously. ‘It won’t be stolen, it won’t be dangerous. It’s not going to explode or anything. It’ll just be luxury goods to bring people a bit of pleasure that they wouldn’t otherwise have had.’

‘Because they couldn’t afford to pay the full price, you mean.’ Linda broke away from him and started to pace around the kitchen.

‘Something like that, yeah.’ Terry didn’t think that was so bad. As long as that was all it turned out to be. His contact had floated the idea that they could do even more business if Terry was willing to take care of other goods, but hadn’t specified what. Terry hadn’t agreed but hadn’t said no either. He reckoned he would think about it if this next job went as smoothly as the first. That had been money for old rope. If they wanted another baby they’d have to save up fast and it wasn’t going to be easy on his wages, reasonable though they were. They had standards to maintain.

Linda tried to think it through rationally, but she was afraid. She’d put her anxieties to the back of her mind but now they broke out. What if the boxes were found? What if Terry was sent to jail? That would bring everything crashing down and what would she do then? She couldn’t bear to return to Battersea. Everyone would know she had failed and blame her for daring to leave her old life behind. She loved her new life and wasn’t prepared to sacrifice it. But she also wanted the new house and a baby to go in it.

‘Stop it, love.’ Terry reached for her, preventing her from pacing any more. ‘You’re working yourself up and you don’t need to. I’ll take care of everything and nobody will be any the wiser. It’s not yet anyway.’

‘When will it be?’ she asked. She didn’t know if she was glad it wasn’t tomorrow or if it would be better quickly over and done with.

‘They’re not sure. Something to do with the tides. Probably end of next week. They’ll let me know. Then maybe you can arrange to be out for a few hours.’

‘A few hours? How much are we talking about?’

‘I told you, only what will fit in the shed. It won’t take that long, I only said that so’s you’d have time to go somewhere and not see anything.’ For the hundredth time he cursed his wife’s quick wits. Usually he loved that about her but sometimes he wished she’d just let something pass without questioning every aspect of it.

Linda nodded, only slightly pacified. She wasn’t really convinced. ‘Promise me you’ll be careful.’ She shut her eyes, trying to get rid of the feeling that something would go wrong. ‘Promise me that you’ll walk away from all this if it starts to get dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.’

‘Nobody’s going to get hurt.’ Terry was pretty sure it wouldn’t come to that. Not for a pile of boxes.

‘Promise me.’

‘All right, all right, I promise. It’s all going to be right as rain. You won’t know they’re there and if you take June with you then she won’t ask awkward questions. And we know where she gets that from.’ He smiled at his wife, teasing her.

‘It’ll serve her well,’ she said. ‘She won’t let anyone walk all over her. I was thinking, maybe I’ll go up to see Mum. I haven’t been for ages and when she last wrote she said Hazel’s got a lovely new engagement ring. That would be a good reason to turn up. June will like that too.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Terry. He didn’t like to see her down in the dumps. This would solve everything.

‘Oh my good God, whatever is that noise?’ Cora could hear it even before the door to the Parrot house opened and the music grew twice as loud.

‘Come on in,’ said Jill. ‘I’m sorry about this. It’s Richie’s latest favourite. Someone called Elvis Presley. Awful, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t know what to say.’ Cora stepped inside and Jill hurriedly closed the door. ‘You can’t call it music, can you? It’s just noise. I don’t know what he sees in it.’

Jill led her through to the small but immaculately clean back kitchen, where she had her latest wedding plans laid out on the table. ‘Here we are. It’s a bit better in here. He’ll get tired of it soon and then we’ll all be able to think straight again.’

Cora sat on one of the ladder-back chairs and then turned as Kathy came into the room. She couldn’t help noticing how smart the girl was, with her dark wavy hair just long enough to lie on her starched white collar, which matched the elegantly thin white belt around her tiny waist.

‘Hello, Mrs Butler. Mum, I’m going out with some of the girls from work later, so don’t worry about me if I’m not back at the usual time.’ With a smile she was gone.

‘Lovely girl, your daughter,’ sighed Cora. Sometimes she wished one of hers worked in an office so they could look like that. Not that Alison would be anything like as stylish as Kathy – but when she brought back her bloodied aprons to be washed, Cora shuddered to touch them. ‘Hard worker too. Mind you, our Hazel has been going non-stop with only one day off a week. If she runs around much more she’ll be too thin for her wedding dress.’

‘Oh no, we can’t have that. All these dresses have to be exactly right and I can’t be altering them at the last minute,’ Jill said. ‘We’ll have to feed her up more. I’ve got a book of McCall patterns and they’re very careful about getting the size right. So none of our girls is allowed to change shape in any way until after the second Saturday of September.’

They started going through the lists of what was to be done and when, checking everything was going to plan. September was still six months away but there was so much to do in between. Finally they had done as much as they could and sat back to take a break. Jill went to the kettle and filled it.

‘We had a letter from our Linda this morning,’ Cora told her. ‘She’s coming up for a day at the weekend and bringing June. They haven’t been to visit us for ages. Maybe I can bring them over so they can see the material. June’ll be thrilled.’

‘That’s a good idea.’ Jill set the kettle to boil. ‘Must be hard having her living away like that.’

‘I can’t complain,’ Cora said. ‘She’s bettered herself. She’s done well. She’s never been no trouble to me. I look at her and I think I done all right. Hazel too. Wish I could say the same for Alison but there’s always one.’

‘She’s not so bad,’ Jill replied, pouring the boiling water into the teapot. ‘If she stood up straight and had a different haircut it would do wonders for her. Kathy’s good with hair – shall I ask her?’

‘No, no, that would be a waste of her time,’ Cora assured her. ‘I wouldn’t want to impose. God knows I’ve tried suggesting improvements but it just falls on deaf ears. She’s not interested.’

Jill wanted to get off this awkward subject. ‘You heard any more about that family that did a moonlight flit? Has anyone seen anything of them since?’

‘No, not that I know of.’ Cora shook her head. ‘Turns out one of them worked in the shop next to the butcher’s so Alison knew him a bit. He’s never shown his face since. Left his boss high and dry. He’s trying to get a new assistant but no luck yet. Some people have no consideration.’

Before she could go on, the volume of the music rose still further.

‘Right, I’ve had enough,’ said Jill, setting down her cup. ‘Excuse me, Cora. I need to go and have a word with that young man upstairs. Just because he’s mad about rock and roll doesn’t mean we all are.’

Cora sat and listened as the music abruptly stopped but Richie carried on singing ‘Hound Dog’. Then there was a yell of, ‘Oh, Mum!’

‘I’ll give you crying all the time in a minute,’ Jill shouted. ‘You’ll have something to cry about if you carry on like this. I’ll take that record player away and tell your father, then you’ll be sorry.’ The voices faded.

Cora nodded. That was only right and proper. She wished Jack had been around to help her with the girls, but she’d had to do everything. It would have been nice to share the trials of three growing children. Maybe he would have been able to sort Alison out. Then she thought it was unlikely. The girl was impossible.

Alison tried to work at her usual speed the next Monday morning, knowing it would be the quietest time of the week, but she couldn’t find the energy. She felt completely worn out and couldn’t see the point of anything. Wearily she transferred cuts of pork and beef from the back of the shop to the front, dragging her feet, feeling every tray was a dead weight.

She’d so looked forward to Linda’s visit. Her big sister was the one person in the world who’d always stood up for her and who didn’t blame her for being so awkward. Linda might have understood if Alison could have got up the courage to tell her what had happened that Friday night. But that hadn’t happened.

From the moment she and June had arrived it was nothing but plans for the wedding. If it wasn’t arrangements for the dresses it was exclaiming over Hazel’s engagement ring. Alison had hardly been able to get a word in edgeways, let alone a moment to confess to her big sister. It had been a huge disappointment.

There had been a moment when they were both on their own in the kitchen when Linda had asked her if she was all right. That would have been the time to say something – but then June had come running in and any chance of comfort from her big sister had vanished.

She should have known it was a false hope. Nobody could help her carry her burden. It had been her fault for daring to dream Paul really liked her, that she could have a boyfriend like all the other girls did. Telling Linda wouldn’t have altered that. Although the bruises had faded, in her heart she was deeply hurt. That hadn’t even begun to heal. She wondered if it ever would.

Grimly Alison went from shop to storeroom, listening to Fred talking to the occasional customer, knowing this state of everlasting misery was how things were going to be. There was nothing to look forward to except a bleak future and she’d been stupid to think otherwise.

Over the next few weeks Alison grew more and more tired and barely spoke unless she had to. She lost all interest in food and the cosy lunches with Fred petered out. She made up an excuse of not wanting to put on weight before the wedding as the dress couldn’t be altered. Fred went along with it but was sure there was more to it than that.

He knew Alison wasn’t one to put herself forward but over the time she’d worked for him he’d seen her start to come out of her shell and how naturally easy she could be with people when given a chance. It worried him that these days she avoided speaking to the customers unless there was no way out of it. And she barely chatted to him at all. He knew he was far older than her and that she wouldn’t look on him as a friend and yet he couldn’t help feeling snubbed. They’d built up a good working relationship – or at least he thought they had. He’d found her a real companion, with opinions and ideas that he suspected she never shared with anyone else. She’d begun to smile and when she stopped worrying about everything it turned out she had a quick sense of humour too. Maybe he should ask her outright if there was something wrong. But what did he know about young women? Even if she did confide in him, he wasn’t sure he’d know what to say. It wasn’t as if he’d had much experience of women at all, unless he counted his domineering mother. He certainly didn’t know what the modern girl might have to worry about.

So he said nothing. That didn’t stop him growing ever more concerned, as Alison’s face got thinner and thinner and her eyes developed dark rings beneath them. Was she ill? Was that what was alarming her and making her behave so differently?

She also seemed to be back where she started when it came to dealing with offal. Several times now he’d seen her hurrying to the back of the shop and then a door would slam and there would be the unmistakable sound of someone being sick. If this went on he was going to have to say something, as it was affecting the way they worked. He had to be able to rely on her to pack and serve whatever was in the store. She couldn’t pick and choose. He couldn’t be out the back checking deliveries wondering if she was going to leave a customer in the lurch as she ran off to the toilet. Business would suffer and he wasn’t having that.

Alison had seen the look on Fred’s face when she’d returned to the counter. She was beginning to suspect she might have more to worry about than an angry boss. Even though she was naïve she wasn’t completely ignorant. When she’d been working at the factory several of the women had been pregnant and had talked about their symptoms. One in particular had had to be sick several times each morning and had treated everyone to a full description every time. Alison had thought it was enough to put anyone off having a baby.

She remembered when Linda had been expecting June. Four years ago she’d been too young to pay that much attention especially as Linda had recently moved down to Kent, adamant that no child of hers would be born in Battersea. But her big sister had been up to visit a lot in those early days and had talked to Cora about how hard she was finding pregnancy. Alison had listened to the list of sickness, tiredness, being off her favourite foods, swollen ankles, disturbed sleep, and pitied her big sister. Of course when June arrived everyone had been delighted. But Linda’s circumstances were very different.

She forced herself to count back to when she’d last had those stomach cramps she always got when it was her time of the month. It hadn’t been long after she’d started working for Fred and she’d been too embarrassed to ask if she could sit down for a bit when they’d got really bad. Paul had raped her at the beginning of March. She counted on her fingers the weeks that had passed. Her heart sank when she realised it all added up. She’d been too miserable to notice at first. She’d assumed her overwhelming tiredness was down to being so depressed about Paul’s terrible betrayal.

A baby. Was that really what was happening to her? How would she know for certain? How could she cope with a baby? Where would she live? She was pretty sure Cora wouldn’t want it in her house. Her mother would be mortified at the disgrace of it. Cora had very plain views about girls who let themselves get taken advantage of before marriage and never hesitated to voice them. Alison couldn’t even begin to imagine what she’d have to say when her mother found out.

She tried to be practical. Would she be able to carry on working? What would Fred say? She didn’t know what he thought of unmarried mothers but she knew he was very against anything that was bad for business. Once word got around she was sure she would be a liability to him. Even if he was kind, how hard would it be to work once the baby was born? Cora had told her often enough what it had been like in the war, having to hold down two or three jobs to keep the wolf from the door with two little girls and herself as the unwanted extra nuisance. She’d been dropped off with neighbours much of the time. They’d been willing to help out because Cora had been left a widow. Alison knew she couldn’t count on anyone helping her.

What would it be like to have Paul’s baby? Every time she looked at it she would be reminded of that stinking alley, the shock of realising what he was doing. How could she live with that? Would it have his eyes? She’d adored those eyes once but now she knew how cruel they could be. How could she love a child who looked like him?

But as the days went by, she realised that maybe there was a way around it. Perhaps she didn’t have to have the baby. She’d heard whispered conversations about people who got rid of their unborn children. There had been a woman at the factory who was rumoured to have done it. She’d been mysteriously off sick for a few days and had returned, gaunt but determined, saying nothing. The word was she had a husband but he beat her and she didn’t want to bring a child into a household like that. Some had condemned her and others had been sympathetic. Alison thought it couldn’t have been worse than being unmarried and going through with it.

But how would she find out about such a thing? She didn’t have any friends to advise her. Her family was out of the question. Who did she know who might be able to point her in the right direction? She didn’t know enough about any of this.

Alison bit back a sob as she faced the fact that there was nobody she could turn to. She had to find out what was happening to her but she was totally alone.

Cora was delighted. She’d been to see about hiring the church hall in September and had managed to get it at what she knew was a very good rate. She’d emphasised the fact that she was a widow but, though poor, her daughters were respectable and hard-working. She’d also mentioned that the Parrots were exactly the sort of family they wanted to move to the area – prepared to help out and muck in with anything, even though they weren’t local. She’d painted the picture of Hazel and Neville as the perfect young couple who just needed a little helping hand to start their life together before becoming pillars of the community. The church warden couldn’t have been more obliging. They’d settled on the price and Cora had put down a deposit. She congratulated herself on a job well done.

She decided she would treat herself to a trip round the market. Normally she only rushed from stall to stall, haggling for what she needed, never taking much notice of what else was there. Now she walked slowly along, enjoying the spring sunshine, eyeing the goods on offer. The thought struck her that Hazel would soon be wanting new items for when she set up home with Neville. Perhaps they would be given some as wedding presents but they would have to buy the rest. It was a bit early to start yet but it wouldn’t hurt to look. Also, for the first time there would be some spare room in her own house. She’d become so used to the cramped space she hadn’t really considered what it would be like once Hazel left and took all her clothes with her. They took up more room than her own and Alison’s put together.

Cora groaned to herself. She’d be stuck with Alison and nobody else to break the tedium. She wasn’t looking forward to that. With Hazel there was always something to talk about – where she’d been, who’d been in the café, what was happening at Neville’s factory. But with Alison there was nothing. She never brought back any decent gossip from the butcher’s, even though she must hear lots of it. Too dim to work out what was worth repeating and what wasn’t, more than likely. She had no friends and never went anywhere. She might earn her keep by bringing home her wages and the offcuts and leftovers, but as a companion she was worse than useless.

‘All right, Mrs Butler?’ called Joe Philpott. ‘How are the dresses coming on?’

Cora smiled at him. ‘They’re going to be lovely. Jill Parrot is very clever with her sewing machine. I wish I was half as good at dressmaking as she is.’

‘Hazel tells me you’ve made lots of her stuff and you’ve taught her everything she knows.’ He winked. ‘And she’s a stunner. So you must be pretty good yourself.’

‘Oh, nonsense,’ said Cora but she was flattered. She hadn’t had a bit of a banter for ages.

‘Tell you what, why don’t you take a look at my trimmings.’ Joe brought out a big box. ‘See anything you fancy? What about these pearl buttons?’

‘Joe Philpott, if those are real pearl then I’m a Dutchman.’ She picked up a packet of rickrack binding in different colours. ‘Now this is more like me. I could use some of this when I’m making up a frock for my granddaughter. She’s three already, you know.’

‘You don’t look old enough to be a grandmother,’ said Joe. ‘I’d never have believed it if I hadn’t heard it from your own mouth. Why don’t you choose a couple of colours and have them on me. On account of your family being such good customers of late.’

Cora beamed. ‘That’s very good of you. I’ll take you up on that before you change your mind. That pretty primrose yellow and the pale blue. They’ll suit her best.’

Joe popped the wavy binding into a paper bag and handed it over. ‘There you go.’

Still smiling broadly, Cora wandered along the other stalls, thinking this was her lucky day. After all she’d been through over the years, she was well overdue a change of fortune.