Mothers and Daughters (21 page)

Connie put her arm around her cousin and gave him a hug.

‘Will you tell them for me?’ he pleaded.

‘Have you not heard one word I’ve said? Just do it!’ Esme ordered. ‘Besides, there are far worse things in life than being queer,’ she offered, surprised at her own broad-mindedness. There’d been some funny love affairs when she was a suffragette, and she often wondered about Diana Unsworth.

‘Like what?’ he sighed, looking for crumbs of comfort.

‘Like being mean-spirited and a hypocrite, for a start, or being violent to kiddies and animals, being a bully and a liar. What you do with your private life is up to you?’

‘Come on, it’s late. I expect you want a bed on the sofa. No point in going home now. It’ll look better in the light of day.’

‘I feel such a fool.’

‘What does Trevor think?’

‘I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me see him. What a bloody mess!’

‘None of that language in this house. It’s a messy business being different, right enough. People like us all to be the same, think the same thoughts, and them in the right order. It makes us feel safe, I suppose. Look at the mess our Freddie got into,’ she sighed.

‘That was different. He wasn’t a queer and everyone hates queers,’ said Neville.

‘I don’t know about that son, but I’m tired. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Good night and God bless … Pray for that widow and kiddies in America,’ she said, touching his lips with her finger.

‘Gran, you’re a good egg.’

‘A scrambled egg, perhaps,’ she replied, managing a weak laugh. ‘All I need now is sleep and plenty of it. And keep the television down low if you’re watching the news. We’ll find a way through, won’t we?’

When Esme was safe in her bedroom, Connie and Neville huddled under a blanket in the lounge, sipping Horlicks and dunking biscuits, watching the news reports.

‘What am I going to do, Con? They’ll kill me … Those coppers were waiting up there on the off chance, hidden in the bushes. They thought it was a joke. It’s our lives they’re messing with. How can I face Strangeways? I’ve heard such tales about what they do to guys like me in there.’

‘It won’t come to that. The family will find a good lawyer. You’ve never been in any trouble before. You’re nineteen. It’ll be OK.’ The truth was she’d heard the same things, but why put the fear of God into him now?

‘Trevor’s only seventeen … Oh, it’s such a mess.’

‘It’s not as bad as the mess I’m in, Nev. I think
I’m pregnant.’ Her worst fears were finally given voice.

Neville looked up. ‘You are joking?’

‘I wish I was. I’ve missed two periods. I’ve never done that before. My bra is tight and I feel sick each morning.’

‘Have you told Marty Gorman?’

‘He’s gone to Hamburg.’

‘You must contact him. He’ll do the honourable thing.’

‘I can’t.’ How could she tell anyone she wasn’t sure whose baby it was?

‘If you won’t then I will. No one knocks up my cousin and gets away with!’ he added.

‘Thanks, but it’s more complicated than that. I did something stupid. Please leave it to me. I’ll sort something out. You have enough on your plate. Don’t tell a soul, I beg you. I’m trusting you with this. Promise?’

‘What do you take me for? Have you seen a doctor?’

‘No, not yet. I wanted to be sure. I wish my mama was here. She’d know what to do.’

‘You must tell someone soon … Joy or Rosa. They’ll help you.’

‘I can’t, Nev. I’m so scared!’

‘Me too. How am I going to break the news?’

‘Maybe like Gran says … just come out with it and see what happens. I’ll come with you, if you like, for support.’

‘I suppose we could do it together. They wouldn’t know who to beat up first.’ Neville gave a false giggle.

‘That’s better,’ Con whispered. ‘There’s got to be a funny side somewhere in all this, but the future’s bleak for both of us right now.’

‘We could cook them a meal, invite them to lunch, soften them up on roast beef and Yorkshires …’

Connie couldn’t believe he was being serious. ‘I can’t cook in my condition. I’d throw up all over them,’ she replied.

‘But I can,’ said Neville. ‘I wasn’t joking. Kill two birds with one stone.’

‘Better make it a chicken then,’ Connie said.

‘Think about it. Only those who need to know: Gran, Su and my parents. We stand together on this one, kiddo. Remember the family motto: Family First and Foremost.’

‘It’ll have to be soon. Gran’ll be so furious. I’ll get chucked out,’ Connie groaned.

‘It’ll be hatchets at dawn for me. My lot will just bury me in the back garden. Oh, Connie, why do we do these things?’

‘Because we are who we are. I didn’t think, and you forgot to be careful,’ Connie sighed.

‘We both forgot to be careful,’ Neville replied.

Connie sat in the college, not taking a word in. Everyone was talking about the assassination of President Kennedy and his poor family, saying where
they were when they heard the terrible news. All she could think about was her own predicament and Neville’s court case, all the shame coming on the family and her future.

How could she look after a child and do her studies, make a home? Would Su let her back to the Waverley or could she stay with Gran in Sutter’s Fold. What if Neville, her only ally, was sent to prison?

What no one must know was that she wasn’t sure who the father of this baby could be. Was it Marty, or Lorne Dobson after that one drunken spree? She’d no idea, and that fact alone would make her a slut in anyone’s eyes. Better to say nothing, better to hold her doubts to herself. They would be too stunned to take much in at first so she had time to make plans now her A levels were resat. Studying had been her one consolation and she felt sure her results would get her a university place, but first there would be a summer baby to see to.

The thought of trying to get rid of it never entered her head. The poor thing hadn’t asked to be born, but it deserved a chance in life. She’d heard tales of knitting needles and hooks, gin baths and other extreme measures. There were clinics where rich girls could get sorted by discreet doctors, but she was not one of them. Mama had given her a chance of life by coming here. She had been so strong and brave, and Connie must be the same now.

On the way home, she took a detour by the allotment where Mama used to grow vegetables, and sat on the old stool where they used to pod broad beans for their special bean stew.

‘Mama, what shall I do? You once knew what I am feeling now. How do I soften the blow? Auntie Su must have felt the same, but Gran, Ivy, Levi – how will they react?’ Auntie Lee would be a good listener, she knew, but she felt so ashamed of herself.
Why did
you have to die before I realised just how strong and
special you were? No one worries about you like your
own mother
. Now she was gone, and everything was unsafe.

Now she was dangling over a precipice, with Neville holding the very slack rope. Joy was too ill to help and Rosa was far away. Neville was right: they just had to help each other out on Sunday when the Winstanleys were going to get the shock of their lives, and no mistake. One thing was certain: most of them would have indigestion by the time the meal was over.

‘What’s all this in aid of?’ said Esme when she got back from chapel to find the table was laid for six with the best embroidered cloth, the one with hollyhocks in the corner. She had prayed to the Almighty to send a miracle of understanding and compassion for poor Neville. It wasn’t his fault he was born that way. Her husband, Redvers, used to say it was written right
through the rock if a man was inclined to his own … There was no changing them, but she wasn’t sure.

Now there was a distinct tincture of burning fat, gravy and roasting meat. Connie’s best attempt at apple pie crust looked a bit like rubber rings, and the best crystal still had the dust on it. It was like setting the table for the prodigal son.

So, that was Neville’s scheme? He was going to tell his mother and father in the safety of a strange house? But who was the sixth place for? Not Trevor Gilligan, surely?

Then the mystery deepened when Susan drove up in her smart Mini. She’d been to the parish church. Connie was busy in the kitchen with her head down. She’d gone so thin since coming back from her trip and hardly ate a morsel. But she and Neville were apparently doing this as a thank you.

Ivy came up on the bus, having refused a lift from Levi. He was put out at missing his own dinner. But Gran had insisted he came when he rang to see what the fuss was about.

‘You’d better come along. I know Ivy’s coming. They’re doing a meal especially for the family. You can have your tea at Shirley’s later, but I want you to promise to drive our Ivy back home.’

‘I’m getting a divorce, Mother.’

‘Not while I’m alive, you won’t. There’s been no divorces in this family. You made your vows quick enough, so stick with them a while longer.’

‘Oh, Mother, there’s no shame in it nowadays.’

‘There is in my book. I shall cut you out of my will.’

‘Mam, this life is not a rehearsal,’ he offered.

‘It is … for the world to come. You’re on trial in this life.’

‘Do you really believe that?’

‘The Lord sends little tests to prove our mettle.’ Wait till you hear what he is sending you today, she thought. ‘Just turn up. Believe me, it’s important.’

Connie’s heart was thumping in her chest. She just wanted to blurt it all out and get it over with, but this was Neville’s big moment; hers would come later. She tested the roast potatoes as Neville was hovering over the gravy. He was such a fusspot when it came to food, always bossing her around. She’d put fresh flowers on the table, linen napkins and water glasses, and Neville had bought a bottle of expensive wine. The thought of alcohol turned Connie’s stomach.

‘What are we celebrating?’ said Ivy, puffing as she removed her fur hat and coat. ‘It’s a steep walk up that hill.’

‘Levi could have fetched you,’ said Esme.

‘I’d rather walk, thank you. I’m not putting my behind on any seat Shirley Fletcher has been sitting on. You never know what I might catch,’ she sniffed. ‘He’s late, as usual. And is this all your work,
Constance?’ she sniffed, ‘My, you’re looking peaky. That French air didn’t do much good for you then, did it?’

‘Come into the sitting room and admire the view. Susan’s already here,’ Connie said, biting her tongue.

‘Is this some family powwow? I’m honoured to be invited, I’m sure,’ said Ivy, sitting down on the most comfortable chair and nodding in Su’s direction. ‘How’s the mother-to-be be? What’s all this in aid of?’

Su smiled. ‘I don’t know. I got a summons like you. Joy is on bed rest. They can’t get her blood pressure down. I am so worried.’

‘Connie and I thought it was about time we had a family gathering to thank Gran for her hospitality and to …’ Neville paused.

‘Anyone for sherry?’ Connie passed the flutes around on a silver tray, trying not to shake it too much.

Then the front door flew open and Levi filled the hall. ‘Sorry I’m late folks. How’s the legs, Mother?’

‘It’s my hip, and it is on the mend, or it was.’

‘Good … good.’

Connie blurted out, ‘Is that the gravy?’

‘There’s a good smell coming from the kitchen. Has Connie been busy?’

‘Neville’s done it, actually,’ said Connie.

Levi looked at his son. ‘You don’t take after your pa, then. I wouldn’t know one oven knob from the
other,’ he laughed, face pink with exertion. ‘So what’s new?’

‘Would you like to sit down, Dad? There’s something I’ve got to tell you and I’m going to say it only once.’

Connie jumped in. ‘What Neville wants to say is that dinner is ready. Let’s put everyone at the table. It’s a shame to waste all this good cooking.’

Now everyone was nervous, polite, unsure, passing the vegetables around, making small talk. Connie sat at one end with Su to her left and Gran on the other side. Neville put Levi on his right next to Su, and his mother next to Gran so his parents were opposite and not touching.

When the first course was over, to great acclaim, Connie rushed in with her apple pie, with apologies for the rubbery pastry.

‘These apples are a bit tart,’ commented Ivy.

‘I’ll get the sugar bowl.’ Neville jumped up.

‘Sorry, I forgot to sweeten them,’ said Connie.

‘Look, what’s going on?’ Levi was flustered. ‘I may be thick but I guess we’re not here to discuss the price of fish. Out with it. What’s up? Do you want a loan? Who’s got the sack? Who’s crashed the car?’

‘Nothing like that, Dad,’ Neville faltered, looking to Connie for courage. She nodded and crossed her fingers under the table.

‘Then what?’ Levi snapped.

‘I’m queer.’

‘You’re what!’

‘I’m queer, and me and my friend have been arrested. That’s what’s up.’

No one spoke. Su busied herself with eating the pudding. Gran briefly covered her face with her napkin.

‘He’s in a spot of bother, that’s all, but we can get a good lawyer. They were targeted,’ she said.

‘Where?’ Levi stuttered.

‘Leaper’s View.’

‘Ivy, did you know?’ Levi continued. Everyone was turning to Ivy, who was quietly choking on her apple pie, purple in the face. ‘Say something, Ivy … Ivy? She’s going to pass out. Someone do something quickly!’

Auntie Su rushed behind Ivy’s chair and thumped her between the shoulder blades. An apple skin shot out of her mouth onto the table cloth.

Connie apologised, ‘Oh, sorry, I forgot to peel them.’

Ivy still didn’t speak but sat there, rigid.

‘I think she’s gone into shock,’ said Gran, patting her on the hand. ‘Ivy, come on, now, it’s not that bad. He could have been done for murder or fraud.’

‘But what about my grandchildren?’ was all she said. ‘I want my grandchildren. Every mother wants grandchildren. And if he doesn’t get himself wed … He has to get married.’

‘I don’t think she’s taking it in,’ said Gran. ‘Look,
Ivy, your son isn’t the marrying kind, as they say. He’s a bachelor boy.’