A Daughter's Disgrace (23 page)

Terry swung open the gate of their new house. It was dark already, but the curtains were still open and he could see the Christmas tree that Linda had insisted they put in the front window. She had made streamers from red and green crêpe paper and she and June had decorated the tree with them, along with some shiny baubles they’d bought in town. He should be full of Christmas spirit just looking at it.

He hesitated before getting out his keys. What should he tell his wife about the conversation he’d just had? He didn’t know what to make of it himself. On one level it was no different to how he’d been approached before – a quiet suggestion, the promise of good rewards if he was prepared to bend the law. Yet he could sense there was more urgency this time, combined with a threat.

He’d made it clear for months that he was no longer interested but now they were after him again. He wasn’t sure why. There had been a rumour that another member of the team had recently disappeared. Terry had no way of knowing whether that meant they’d moved house, done a runner for a completely different reason or if it was more sinister. Nobody knew the names of who else was involved; it was safer that way. He didn’t even know how many others were working for them. You just had the one contact and that was it. He knew only Vincent. That meant he couldn’t check out the background or risks he might face if he turned them down again. It had been all smiles to begin with but it hadn’t gone down well when he’d tried to sever his connection with the shady business. Should he go ahead anyway, knowing it would comfortably pay for Christmas? Or should he discuss it with Linda, as it would be much worse if she found out he’d agreed to something behind her back?

Before he could open the door Linda flung it back, smiling from ear to ear. ‘Thought I heard someone on the front step. Come in and see what June’s made.’ She bent towards him and he hugged her, giving her a big kiss on the cheek.

‘God, you’re freezing,’ she said. ‘Get in beside the fire right now. June, Daddy’s home. Where’s your angel? He wants to see it.’

Terry threw his coat over the banister and followed Linda into the warm kitchen, where the gas fire was blazing. June stood beside it, a cardboard cone in her arms. It had a ping-pong ball glued to the top on which Linda had drawn a face. ‘It’s my angel,’ she said seriously. ‘It’s going to go on top of the tree. Do you like it?’

Terry crouched down to her level and solemnly took it from her.

‘Mind out,’ she said. ‘I haven’t made her wings. She’s going to have white wings. Like a big bird.’

‘You’re very clever,’ he told her. ‘It’s going to be beautiful.’ He met Linda’s eyes and she raised her eyebrows, clearly wanting a moment alone with him.

‘Why don’t you take her into the front room and put her by the tree so she’s safe until we make her wings?’ she suggested. June took the angel and set off, holding it carefully in front of her. Linda quickly shut the door behind her.

Her smile grew wider. ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ she said, reaching for his hands and drawing him up to full height. ‘I’ve been to the doctor’s this afternoon.’

At once Terry was alert. ‘And?’ He couldn’t keep the hope from his voice.

‘And …’ Linda was enjoying herself, drawing out the moment. ‘And … he says he thinks I’m having another baby. Really. At last, Terry. After all those false alarms.’

He could hardly contain himself. ‘That’s marvellous, that’s bloody marvellous. Oh my God. I can’t believe it. Really? You are? Oh my God. That’s the best thing ever. Wait, shouldn’t you sit down and rest? How are you feeling?’

Linda laughed. ‘Stop it, Terry. I’m fine, of course I’m fine. It’s early days yet.’ She winked at him. ‘You were right, it was that rug in front of Mum’s fire that did it. The timing fits. I bet that was it. And I haven’t even been sick, or anything yet. So don’t go treating me with kid gloves.’

Terry drew her into his arms and hugged her tight. ‘My precious girl. I’m so happy. I can’t wait.’

Linda shook her head. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to. It won’t be until early summer.’ She sighed. ‘I’m so glad we’ve got this house, Terry. Now we really can make the little room a nursery. And I won’t have to worry about you bringing home those boxes. I couldn’t stand all that again.’

Terry made himself smile back. ‘It’ll be a lovely nursery,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the paint at the weekend and we can make a start on it.’

He couldn’t mention the approach he’d just had. He couldn’t take that delight from her face, nor would he ever forgive himself if she lost this longed-for baby through worrying about his activities. For the time being, he’d have to keep the offer to himself and decide what to do without her knowing anything about it.

‘Oh, I nearly forgot.’ Linda shook her head, amazed the other major news had slipped her mind. ‘I got a letter from Mum. Alison’s had her baby. It’s a boy and they’re calling him David. How about that?’

‘Looks like your mum’s going to be pretty busy being a granny,’ Terry said. ‘Do you want to go up and see them?’

‘I thought we could all go,’ Linda suggested. ‘Then we could take up the Christmas presents. It’ll be lovely to have a little boy to buy things for, won’t it?’ She felt a little guilty at not being around to help her younger sister more, but knew there was a limit to what she could do from such a distance – and her own news meant that all her attention was needed here, for her own family.

Terry gazed adoringly into her eyes. ‘Maybe next Christmas we’ll have another little boy to buy things for,’ he whispered. ‘Or another girl. I don’t mind. As long as it’s born safe and well and you’re all right. That’s all I want in life.’

‘Oh, Terry.’ Linda gazed back at him. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.’

Vera rushed down the road as soon as her shift finished, keen to get out of the freezing wind. She’d been on the go all day and her feet were aching. Now that it was nearly Christmas, the customers kept her busy from start to finish and her supervisor hadn’t allowed her to slack for a minute. She hadn’t even had time to go to the babywear department. She was determined to get something for Alison’s boy but hadn’t had a spare moment. At this rate the little fellow would be into toddler clothes before she managed to finally see him, she thought grimly.

Her eyes were watering so badly from the wind that she nearly crashed into someone coming around the corner. ‘I’m so sorry … oh, it’s you.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘Blimey, Neville, what happened? Been in an accident, have you?’

Neville had been huddling into the upturned collar of his coat with a cap pulled down as far as it would go but now he had to look up and his cover was blown. ‘No, it’s nothing,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘How you been, Vera? It’s been a while.’

‘Cooped up in there.’ She nodded back to the department store. ‘Everyone wants new togs for their Christmas parties and I’ve got to wait till the last one’s decided what she wants and what to go with it. I shouldn’t complain, it’s all good for business, but I’m worn out.’ She pulled a face. ‘How about you?’

‘Don’t think I’m in the market for any new clothes, ’specially not from your place.’ He tried to make light of it. ‘No, we’re doing all right, thanks.’

Vera looked at him sceptically. ‘Walk into a door, did you?’

Neville shrugged. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Suit yourself,’ said Vera. She could tell when a man was lying to her and Neville was hopeless at it. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him – she had a pretty good idea what had happened to his face. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen such a thing. ‘Don’t suppose you fancy a drink, to help keep the cold out? Be doing me a favour. It isn’t the done thing for a woman to walk into a pub on her own. If I go home now the house will be freezing but if I leave it a while Mum will have got the oven going.’

Neville looked doubtful. ‘I’m not sure that I should …’ He was tempted though. Suddenly the thought of a warm pub and friendly company was very appealing. He didn’t want to go home to Hazel if she was in one of her moods, and she nearly always was these days. Surely one drink wouldn’t hurt.

‘Don’t look so scared, I ain’t forcing you.’ Vera looked heavenwards. ‘I ain’t going to jump you or nothing. It’s only a drink, nothing else. If two old friends can’t go for a drink when they bump into each other, what’s the world coming to?’

Neville made up his mind. ‘As long as it’s just the one.’ He smiled, or as much as his bruised face would let him. ‘Better make it somewhere with a dark corner I can hide. No sense in parading my accident, after all.’

Vera beamed. ‘I know just the place.’

‘Going to be a busy weekend by the looks of it,’ said Fred as he came upstairs after shutting up the shop at the end of the day. ‘We’ve got your sister Linda and her family coming round. Plus, I just had Winnie Jewell in, telling me I charge too much for my turkeys, and she said Vera hopes to come round too. Says she’s sorry she couldn’t come before but they been working her hard in Arding and Hobbs. To hear Winnie talk you’d think Vera ran the place.’

Alison turned off the living-room radio; she hadn’t been listening properly anyway. ‘That old boss of hers works her into the ground. She always gave me the evil eye when I went in, like she thought I was going to distract Vera from her business. No wonder she hasn’t had a moment.’ She smiled, glad that her friend was coming to visit. She was looking forward to seeing her friend far more than the thought of seeing her mother again. While she had been relieved that Cora had seemed to warm to the baby, she didn’t really want to have to put up with her carping. Sometimes she still had to pinch herself to believe that she’d got away from her mother’s house, the constant put-downs, her sister’s bullying. She smiled at the thought of how things had changed since she married Fred.

‘Well, her boss was probably right,’ said Fred. ‘You did distract her, didn’t you?’

‘Not often. And anyway they’ve done all right out of my custom, haven’t they?’ Alison stroked the soft new cardigan that Fred had presented her with after David’s birth. ‘Your custom, I should say.’

‘Our custom.’ Fred looked at her happily, glad she liked his gift. The pale grey colour suited her. ‘Now, where’s the boy? How’s he been?’

Alison looked away, and tried to cover her distaste by picking up a book. ‘Oh, he’s been very good. He’s in his cot. I thought it would be quieter for him in there.’

Fred nodded, not fooled for a minute. He knew Alison avoided being in the same room as her baby as much as she could. It worried him but he tried to tell himself it was only to be expected. She’d had a frightening birth as well as an exhausting one and even though she’d been up and about for some days now, it must still be affecting her. He knew too that she must relive the attack every time she saw her son, even though she never mentioned it. Even so, he couldn’t wait to see the baby now his work was finished.

To begin with he’d had a few private worries about how he would cope. It was no small thing to take in another man’s child, especially a man who had treated Alison the way Paul had. He’d been worried it would be a case of like father, like son, but he’d managed to find some books and read up about how bringing up a baby could influence what sort of child it became, and reassured himself that it wasn’t inevitable that the child would turn out bad. Once David had arrived, especially since he’d helped to bring him into the world, he’d been besotted. It wasn’t the little boy’s fault that he’d been conceived the way he had. He was a helpless creature in need of love and Fred was going to make sure he got lots of it.

‘I’ll just go and check how he is and then I’ll put the kettle on.’ He could hear some noise as he set off down the corridor, and it grew louder as he got closer to Alison’s room. He opened the door and a full-blooded wail hit him. David was crying as hard as he could, his little face turning red beneath his woolly hat. Fred rushed across to him.

‘There, there. Whatever’s the matter? Don’t you worry, I’m here now.’ He reached into the cot and picked up the child, and the smell hit him. The blankets were wet and so was the cotton romper suit. ‘Oh, oh, oh. That’s it, is it? David needs changing. I expect Mummy didn’t hear you with the door shut and the radio on.’ He tried to convince himself this was true as he stripped off the wet clothes and dumped them on the floor, then found a clean nappy. Expertly he set about changing the wriggling baby. ‘No, you stay still. I know, it’s cold, but you’ll feel better soon. Where’s your new suit? Shall we have this one? That’ll be warm, won’t it?’ Gradually the baby calmed as Fred held him in his new clothes, patting his back gently until the crying stopped. Carefully he balanced David on one shoulder as he picked up the dirty clothes and blankets and bundled them into the laundry bag. ‘That’s better. Now let’s go and see Mummy.’

Alison looked up as they came into the living room, registering that the baby was in a different set of clothes. ‘Did you change him, then?’ She didn’t sound very interested.

‘He was sodden, poor little chap.’ Fred tickled the baby’s cheek. ‘I suppose you couldn’t hear him from here?’

‘No, I didn’t hear anything,’ she said. ‘He must have just started.’

Fred shook his head, not really believing her, but reminded himself that she was tired and still getting used to everything. ‘Tell you what, you hold him and give him a feed and I’ll make something to eat.’

‘No need.’ Alison got up. ‘I was feeling lots better this afternoon so I did us a casserole. Shall I get you some now?’

Fred beamed in delight. ‘You must be on the mend! You shouldn’t have, you know I don’t mind cooking. But I’d love some. Maybe in a little while, so I can have a play with the boy. Unless you want to?’

‘No, you have him. You’ve been downstairs all day,’ said Alison with relief. The last thing she wanted was to have to play with the baby. That would mean having to look at his face and she still hated doing that. She knew it wasn’t David’s fault, but those eyes bored into her, torturing her with the memory of how he’d been conceived.

Later that evening, Fred sat at his desk, pleasantly full from the casserole. The baby was settled and Alison had gone to bed early. It looked as if she was getting back to normal, at least as far as cooking was concerned. When it came to the baby he wasn’t so sure. Drawing his account books towards him, he admitted he was anxious. She just didn’t seem to have any affection for the boy at all. Maybe it was all too much, too soon, but how could she not love such a beautiful baby? What if things didn’t improve? He didn’t think she would actually harm David – but then he remembered that summer evening when she’d been prepared to kill herself and the unborn child. He shuddered. No, she wouldn’t go that far now. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to either of them. They were his family, they were his to protect. Somehow he would have to make sure they stayed safe.