A Daughter's Disgrace (18 page)

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Authors: Kitty Neale

BOOK: A Daughter's Disgrace
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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Cora had worked hard to spread the word of Alison’s whirlwind romance to explain the hasty marriage, but not everyone was fooled. Only a couple of weeks later the bump was impossible to disguise and tongues began to wag. Cora was furious – she’d wanted to keep their secret at least until Hazel’s wedding was over, so the family could have their moment of glory. Yet again she cursed her youngest daughter for being a nuisance and a burden.

‘Didn’t think he had it in him,’ said Winnie Jewell as she bumped into Cora at the market. ‘He must have hidden talents. Who’d have thought it? Had you any idea, Cora?’

Cora decided she’d better play it down. ‘They did seem to hit it off as soon as she started at the butcher’s,’ she said. ‘Working together all day like that, it’s bound to bring you closer. I admit I was worried about the age difference at first but not any longer. Alison’s never been one to fool around with the boys. She’s very mature for her age.’

‘If you say so, Cora. As long as she’s happy. And you’ll soon be a grandma again.’

‘And how are you keeping, Winnie?’ Cora deliberately changed the subject. ‘Still helping out Beryl with her backyard? Did you get many lettuces out of it?’

‘Lettuces, cucumbers and some radishes. Made a lovely change, that did. I’m going to try it myself next year, see what I can do,’ Winnie said, chatting on. ‘The landlord has done up the flat next to Beryl now, and she’s just hoping she gets decent neighbours this time. She doesn’t want another rough lot like the Lannings.’

Cora didn’t want to think about one particular Lanning, but struck by an idea she asked, ‘has the landlord found new tenants already?’

‘I don’t know, I’d have to ask Beryl, but why are you asking? Have you got someone in mind?’

‘Hazel and Neville had their eye on somewhere round our way but the people decided not to move out after all,’ Cora explained. ‘They aren’t desperate, as now that Alison’s moved out they could live with me, but young people like their own space, don’t they?’ In truth she didn’t want the lovebirds under her feet, although she hadn’t said as much to Hazel, who’d been bitterly disappointed not to get the place they’d looked at. ‘They’d like to stay near Ennis Street but it’s not too far to walk to Beryl’s. It might be just what they are looking for.’

‘If you like I could ask Beryl to have a word with her landlord. After what she had to put up with, with those Lannings, he’s sure to owe her a favour.’

Cora hated hearing the Lanning name yet again, but worse, she loathed being beholden to anyone. However, if it got Hazel a flat she was prepared to suck up to Winnie. ‘Thank you so much, Winnie,’ she enthused. ‘That’s really good of you.’

Winnie preened and said, ‘Think nothing of it, Cora. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.’

‘All right, Mrs Butler?’ a stallholder who had been on the market for years shouted out. ‘Hear your daughter’s got a very big honeymoon baby on the way. Who’d have thought it? I didn’t know Fred Chapman had it in him.’

There were laughs from other stallholders, but somehow Cora gave a wooden smile. She was going to have to put up with a lot of this. Winnie was looking at her sympathetically, but, unwilling to show how hurt she was, Cora said, ‘I look forward to hearing from you, Winnie,’ and then after a hasty goodbye, she hurried off.

As she neared home, Cora had calmed down and begun to cheer up. Hazel would be really pleased to hear about the flat. She also had to get on with the wedding plans, with a myriad of last-minute details that still needed sorting out. It was going to be a wonderful do, sure to divert attention from Alison. It would give all the gossips something else to talk about and for that Cora knew she would be thankful.

The weeks seemed to speed by and now it was Hazel’s big day.

‘You all ready, Neville?’ Jill Parrot called up the stairs to her elder son. For once the house wasn’t shaking to the sounds of Little Richard. Richie himself was standing at the front door, looking uncomfortable in a smart new suit. ‘The car’s here. Time to go.’

Neville emerged from the room he’d shared with his brother and stood at the top of the stairs. Jill’s heart missed a beat. She’d always known he was good-looking but he’d surpassed himself this morning. She could hardly believe this was her little boy and after today he wouldn’t be living at home any more. Blinking away a tear, she told herself not to be stupid. He was marrying the woman he loved. She brushed aside any feelings of misgiving. She’d never looked at Hazel quite the same after the day they’d learnt about Alison’s pregnancy, but had made allowances as it had been such a shock.

Lennie, her husband, came up the garden path. He also looked slightly uncomfortable in his best suit. ‘Off we go,’ he said. ‘All right, son? It’s not too late to back out, you know.’ He nudged Neville in the ribs.

‘Get off, Dad.’ Neville could see the net curtain twitching in the house opposite and guessed his sister, Kathy, was watching them to make sure they left on time. She’d gone across the road earlier to get ready with Hazel, Linda and little June. He was glad she was there – she’d calm them down. He knew what the Butlers could be like once they got together.

Neville waited in the front pew, grinning anxiously at his best man. There had been a row when Richie had wanted to perform this role, but Neville had said he was too young. Lennie had agreed and Richie had stormed off and played his records at full volume until half the street came round to complain. Neville had asked Bill Stevens from the factory instead. He could be relied upon to flirt with the bridesmaids and make a funny speech without overdoing it. He’d also been reassuring the evening before when some of the lads had taken him down the pub for a stag night. Dennis had been full of filthy suggestions, Nobby had been morose and finally downright offensive, saying no man should have to put up with a woman telling him what to do. But Bill had been lighthearted, and had taken him aside towards the end of the evening. ‘Don’t pay them no heed,’ he’d said. ‘They’re just jealous. As am I, young Nev. You’re marrying the best-looking bird in Battersea. So you just thank your lucky stars and don’t take any advice from Dennis. Just keep it simple. Like the birds and the bees.’

Now Bill was standing beside him, probably even more hung-over than the bridegroom, one hand in his pocket where Neville hoped he’d got the ring. He grinned broadly as the organ struck up ‘Here Comes the Bride’.

Neville glanced round and there was Hazel, in the dress he’d heard so much about but hadn’t been allowed to see – which in a house their size had caused plenty of problems. It had been hidden in his parents’ room for safekeeping, and it was a miracle he hadn’t laid eyes on it before now. Guiding her up the aisle was Terry, who was the closest thing Hazel had to a male relative. Had things been different she might have asked Fred, but under the circumstances Cora had deemed it unwise. Fred and Alison were to sit at the back of the church where no prying eyes could be distracted by the now very visible bump.

Behind Hazel and Terry came Kathy, Linda and little June, who was enjoying being the centre of so much attention. Linda had her firmly by the hand. The little girl smiled as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Neville turned to face the front as the vicar stepped forward and began the familiar order of service.

The words blurred into each other and all he could think about was Hazel, so beautiful at his side, her bouquet shaking slightly as her hands trembled. There was a slight interruption as the vicar asked if anyone knew of a reason why they may not lawfully marry and in the tense silence June whispered, ‘Is this a real wedding then?’ so that the whole congregation could hear. Linda shushed her and the vicar went on, but Neville could imagine this was one more thing for which Alison would get the blame. In a matter of moments he was being told he could kiss the bride. Bill winked at him as he quickly pecked Hazel’s cheek. It was over. They were married and Hazel was Mrs Parrot. His heart soared.

Walking down the aisle to the ‘Wedding March’ he nodded to all the friends and family who had packed out the church. There were the Dalbys, next to Hazel’s bosses from the café. Right at the back were Alison and Fred. Fred looked delighted as he took the chance to make a quick exit, so that he was ready to take pictures as the newlyweds stepped into the churchyard. He’d been given Terry’s camera for the day and started snapping as other guests came out and threw confetti.

Hazel held on to her husband’s arm and beamed at him. ‘We’ve done it, Neville. This is the happiest day of my life.’

‘Mine too,’ he said. He couldn’t believe how lovely she looked and he couldn’t wait to get her alone. Somehow he had to get through the reception and then the journey over to Richmond, where they were going to spend the night at a hotel. Cora had been aghast at the idea but Neville had explained it was run by Marian Dalby’s sister and all his workmates had chipped in to give them the night as a present. He hadn’t repeated what Dennis suggested they do when they got there. Still the very thought made him hot under the collar.

But now there was no time to do anything about it as they were photographed from every angle, then with family, then with friends, until his face ached from smiling. ‘My feet are killing me,’ hissed Hazel. ‘Can’t wait to take these shoes off.’

‘Can’t wait to take off more than that,’ he whispered. Then they were being led into the church hall where their mothers and sisters had been hard at work earlier that morning, decorating the place and arranging trestle tables. A big banner hung over the door: ‘Congratulations, Hazel and Neville’. As they went through into the hall, everyone cheered.

Hazel’s bosses from the café had been very generous and helped out with the catering, for which Fred had provided lots of cold cuts of chicken and ham. Hazel appreciated their kindness but found she was too nervous to eat. Even though the ceremony was over and she hadn’t fluffed her words, there were still the speeches to get through before she could finally be alone with Neville. She could hardly wait. Her wedding night in a hotel! She’d secretly dreaded spending it in her new flat, wondering if every sound could be heard by her new neighbours. In her mother’s house, Hazel had heard everything that went on in her neighbour’s bedroom: the thud-thud-thud of the headboard and the squeaking bedsprings. She might still be a virgin, but one of her friends had given her graphic details of what went on, so the sounds never failed to make her blush, even though they fascinated her. She wanted her first night with Neville to be private and special and now thanks to his workmates and Marian’s kindness it would be.

It had been silly of them to have their first real row just a few days ago. She put it down to wedding nerves. Cora had told them about the flat next to Beryl’s and they’d gone to see it. Neville had been upset that it was so far from his mum. Hazel knew it wasn’t the step up she’d hoped for, but it was a big, newly decorated flat and it was far enough from Ennis Street for them to have time alone but close enough to pop over if they wanted to. So she played down the fact it was closer to the power station, which she hated. She knew in her heart of hearts it was far from what she imagined but she thought they could make the best of it, fill it with things they’d choose together to make it their first home, and hope they could ignore the power station. The location was far from ideal but she told herself the trade-off was the generous size of the rooms and the way it had just been done up. ‘I just hope that Beryl doesn’t have that tarty niece of hers round too often,’ she’d said, looking out of the back window of the flat to Beryl’s backyard, full of plants in all manner of containers: buckets, paint tins, an old sink. It wasn’t a view to shout about, and the people in the road behind them would be able to see straight into their kitchen, they were so close. She’d have to find a blind down the market.

‘I don’t know why you all hate Vera so much,’ Neville had protested. That had really got on Hazel’s nerves. Here she was, prepared to live near to the smelly power station so they could have a good start together, and he was defending that trollop. They’d ended up screaming at each other, all over someone they didn’t really know. She hoped Beryl hadn’t heard. They’d gone ahead and signed the lease anyway, even though it was more expensive than they’d wanted. It didn’t matter, they had been given the keys and had managed to buy some second-hand furniture, enough to enable them to move in as soon as they married. They would carry on saving, and replace the old stuff bit by bit. She’d got a few bits and pieces – items Jill had given them, some wedding presents, those kitchen knives she’d got at the market which Cora kindly insisted she take with her. The rest would come in time.

Hazel forced herself to eat some chicken as she gazed at her new husband. There was no doubt in her mind that they’d done the right thing, row or no row. They’d make the place their first home and move on when they were ready. He was the man for her, no two ways about it. She was startled out of her thoughts by the tapping of a spoon on glass. The speeches were starting.

People laughed and clapped affectionately as the good wishes flowed. Bill kept his comments just about on the right side of decency, though she could see her mother’s eyes glancing round the room, checking nobody was offended. Several of Cora’s acquaintances from church were pursing their lips but everyone else was laughing along, taking it all in the spirit in which it was intended. Finally Bill shut up and the music started. People began to clear the tables and push them back so that there could be dancing.

After Neville had led Hazel onto the dance floor, and had waved for others to join them, Fred had pulled an obviously reluctant Alison forward. He was a good dancer though and all eyes seemed to rest on the couple.

‘I don’t know how she has the nerve,’ hissed Cora. ‘Look at her up there, big as a balloon already. Does she have to flaunt it? Shameless hussy.’

‘Ah, but she’s a married woman now,’ said Terry, patting her arm. He had had a few drinks and all was well in his world. ‘Not a bad mover, old Fred, is he? He’s kept his talents under a bushel.’

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