Memories Are Made of This (35 page)

BOOK: Memories Are Made of This
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Jeanette nodded, and took out her purse.

‘D'you want it delivered? It'll cost you extra.'

She gave him a look. ‘It's Christmas Eve, you should be glad to be rid of it. Anyway, I'll manage it somehow. I haven't that far to go.'

‘Suit yourself.' He took her money and turned to the next customer.

As Jeanette dragged the tree out of the shop, she heard a woman say, ‘How much is your mistletoe?'

Mistletoe,
she thought, walking along the pavement with the tree following behind like a train on a wedding gown. Should she go back and buy a sprig of mistletoe and fasten it in her hair, just for a joke when she met David later? Perhaps a bit too obvious. Oh, what the hell! She went back and bought a sprig.

As Jeanette dragged the tree round the back of the house, she wondered which members of the family would be in. Would it be easier to tell them all together about having seen her mother, or to get her father alone and tell him first? Or would it be better leaving the telling until after Christmas? New Year was over a week away. Grace's request made it sound as if she was in no rush to see her husband, although she had suggested that he might need time to adjust to the news that she was alive.

‘Who's there?' shouted George.

A startled Jeanette panted, ‘It's me, Dad! I didn't expect to find you out here.'

‘I was putting bread out for the birds,' said George, gazing at his younger daughter in the gathering gloom. ‘Is that a tree you've got there?'

‘Yes. Hester suggested I picked one.'

‘I'm surprised she remembered.'

‘She didn't. I did.'

‘Not surprising. She's been through a traumatic time and it'll leave its mark on her for a while – if not for the rest of her life,' said George, frowning as he took a grip on the tree. ‘You'll have to be extra kind to her.' He changed the subject. ‘We should have got a tree days ago, but I suppose you got it cheaper and it'll last until Twelfth Night. Come on, I'll help you inside with it. Glad you've finished work for a couple of days?'

‘That goes without saying, Dad.'

Together, the pair of them heaved the tree into the scullery and then through the house to the parlour. In the past, after Christmas dinner, the family had always gathered there to spend the rest of the day playing games, such as Housey, Housey. They balanced the tree against the wall near the gas cupboard.

‘I'll go and find the tub,' said Jeanette.

‘No, luv! It'll be too heavy for you and besides, I can put my hand on it straightaway,' said George. ‘I'll get some soil from the garden. You make a cup of tea.'

As Jeanette put the kettle on, she decided that whilst they were alone it was the perfect time to tell him about her mother. She waited until they had the tree balanced perfectly in the tub of soil and she had handed him his steaming cup before saying, ‘Dad, I've some news for you.'

He glanced down at her. ‘You're not getting engaged to that David yet, are you?'

‘No, it's not that. You know we've only been going out together for a short time.' She paused. ‘It's Mam. I've seen her!'

He blanched and gripped the mantelpiece. ‘You're serious? How can you possibly have seen her?'

‘A birthday card was put through the door the other evening with a note. It didn't say it was from Mam, but a meeting place was suggested where I would discover her whereabouts.'

He blinked and then squeezed his eyes together. ‘I can't believe this,' he muttered. ‘Why didn't you tell me?'

‘Because I didn't know whether it was a hoax and I'd be let down again,' said Jeanette earnestly, stretching out a hand and touching him. ‘Besides, you've been worried about Hester. Anyway, I went today and she was there. She's living on the Wirral in a cottage with a brother and sister. He has a market garden and she's a nurse.'

‘I don't understand! What's she doing there? Why didn't she come home?' He sounded bewildered. ‘Is she in love with the brother?'

‘I wouldn't have thought so,' said Jeanette. ‘She's crippled, Dad. Can't walk. She's in a wheelchair.'

George stared at her and then without a word, he walked out of the parlour. Jeanette hurried after him. ‘I know it's a shock, Dad, but I got a shock, too, when I saw her. Part of her spine was crushed when the house she was in got bombed. She'd been to see an old friend. She lost her memory and then when she got it back, she didn't want to be a burden on us.'

A muscle in his throat convulsed. He went over to the sideboard and took a bottle of whisky and a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a generous measure. He gulped it down in one go before going over to his armchair and sitting in front of the fire. Jeanette dragged the pouffe alongside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Are you all right, Dad?'

‘How did she manage for money?' he asked hoarsely.

‘You're not going to believe this, but Aunt Ethel was right. Mam is Lavinia Crawshaw's daughter and she came looking for her. I suppose you can do that when you're rich and influential.'

He looked up at Jeanette. ‘Does Grace want to see me?'

‘Yes, but I don't know whether she'll come home. She's built a different life for herself because she didn't want to be a burden.'

He nodded slowly. ‘I bet Aunt Ethel is why she stayed away. But Grace and I took vows! For better, for worse, in sickness and in health. I'd have looked after her.'

‘How, Dad? You had to earn a living.'

‘This is going to take some getting used to.'

Jeanette felt sorry for him because he was obviously deeply hurt and rejected. Strangely, she didn't feel like that at the moment. She wanted to give him a big hug, but already he was pushing himself up out of the chair and pouring himself another whisky.

‘It is Aunt Ethel,' he said. ‘I'll find her a place somewhere and we'll have a bit of peace without her at last. I'll be retiring soon.' He tossed back the whisky. ‘Now tell me what else Grace had to say.'

Jeanette hesitated. ‘It's probably best, Dad, if she tells you herself.'

He stared at her and nodded slowly. ‘You're right. Write down her address and I'll go and see her tomorrow.'

‘Tomorrow's Christmas Day! You can't go. Besides, she doesn't want to see either of us until the New Year.'

He took a deep breath and then reached for the whisky bottle again.

‘You're not kidding me?' asked Hester, her expression incredulous as she watched Jeanette decorating the Christmas tree.

‘No. Dad's asleep in the armchair. He's downed a couple of big whiskies. If that isn't proof that what I've just told you about my mother is true, I'd like to know what is,' said Jeanette. ‘Now, I must get this tree finished because David will be here in about an hour.'

‘Where are you going?'

‘We're having a meal together and then we thought that later we'd go to church.' Jeanette glanced over her shoulder at Hester and thought she looked as if she had lost weight. ‘You could do with feeding up,' she said. ‘Dad's going to need something to eat when he wakes up. Make sure you have something proper yourself, too.'

Hester paled. ‘The last thing I want is to put weight on.'

‘OK, it's up to you. Tell Dad I won't be in until after midnight.'

‘I have to go out for a short while,' said Hester. ‘There's a few things I have to collect. Does the old witch know?'

‘Dad told her and he didn't hold back from blaming her for Mam's decision not to come home.'

‘So where is she?'

‘God knows! She had a pinched look on her face and stumbled out of the room. She looked dreadful and might have left the house because I heard a door slam. I might have gone after her if I didn't have so much to do.'

Hester nodded, then left the parlour and hurried upstairs. ‘First things first,' she muttered, carrying her shopping bag into the bathroom. Her period was late by two days, which was not much but she was always on time. She was going to give her body all the help she could to bring herself on. Her hands shook violently and she struggled to turn on the taps, but managed it at last. She poured in some bath salts. She thought of Ally, wondering if he was back in Liverpool and staying with Wendy and Charley. ‘Keep calm, keep calm,' she told herself as she took a bottle of gin from her bag and placed it on the stool beside the bath. ‘Don't think of him right now.'

She had heard married women talk of gin and a hot bath doing the trick when they thought themselves pregnant with an unwanted baby, so it was worth a try. She wondered if Betty had done so too, as she removed her clothes and took a towel from the airing cupboard before testing the temperature of the water with her elbow. A bit hot. She ran some more cold and then gingerly immersed herself in the water. She gasped because it still felt scalding. Perhaps some more cold, or would that defeat the object? She needed the water as hot as she could bear it, so she just huddled in the water and reached for the gin. She unscrewed the cap, took a couple of sips and pulled a face. The best medicine always tasted horrible, although lots of people actually loved the taste of gin. What a thing to be doing on Christmas Eve – a time when the Christ child was being welcomed in churches! She drank some more gin and then put the cap back on and cautiously lay down in the water. She felt her belly but didn't feel any pain. It just felt heavy. The only effect the gin seemed to have was to make her head spin slightly. Perhaps she should drink some more.

She was just reaching for the bottle when the bathroom door suddenly opened and Jeanette appeared. Hester froze and her half-sister stared at the bottle of gin. ‘I didn't realize you were in here. You should have locked the door.'

‘I was in such a state I forgot,' said Hester, feeling slightly hysterical. ‘It seems I can't do anything right.'

‘What's wrong?' asked Jeanette.

‘I'd rather you didn't ask that,' said Hester. ‘You can go now.'

‘Like hell I will. Do you think you're pregnant?'

Hester sighed. ‘Fetch me my housecoat!'

Jeanette ran to get it and was back in moments. By then Hester had pulled out the plug and was sitting on the side of the bath, rubbing herself dry. Jeanette sat on the bath stool, holding the housecoat. ‘I've read about women believing gin and a hot bath is a way of getting rid of an unwanted pregnancy. Did Cedric rape you when you were at the conference?'

Hester sighed even deeper than she had before. ‘Yes. A lot of good all my self-defence training did when I needed it. He put handcuffs on me and almost made it impossible for me to breathe, never mind defend myself.' She ground her teeth. ‘I shouldn't be talking to you like this. You're only a kid.'

‘No, I'm not!' said Jeanette fiercely. ‘I'm fed up of people telling me I'm only a kid. I'm eighteen! So are you pregnant?'

‘I hope to God I'm not! My period's a couple of days late, but I was so frightened, have been since it happened, so I was having the hot bath and drinking gin in the hope that it would do the trick and bring me on.' A shudder went through her. ‘I've already made up my mind to leave home – and Liverpool – one way or the other if I am. Emma would let me rent her cottage, or I'm sure Myra Jones would let me stay with her if the worst came to the worst and I couldn't afford to rent. I had this plan . . .' Her voice trailed off and she swallowed. ‘Anyway, I can't stay here any longer. Dad will be really, really upset if I am pregnant. Cedric might be dead, but what if he has left a legacy?'

‘You can't leave,' said Jeanette firmly. ‘Two days overdue is nothing! I've been ten days before now. You've had a shock to your system. It could just be that which has made you late.'

Hester smiled faintly. ‘You really do know how to cheer a girl up.'

‘I'm glad to hear you say that. Why don't you get dressed and have something to eat?'

Hester said, ‘I have to go shopping. Some of the shops in Breck Road stay open until nine on Christmas Eve to catch the last-minute shoppers and for those workers who have yet to pick up their orders like me.'

Jeanette handed the housecoat to her. ‘Promise me you'll come back?'

‘Of course I'll come back. I only hope the old witch doesn't get wind of what I was doing. She'll tell Dad and I'd rather he doesn't know unless I have no other choice but to tell him.'

‘If the old witch you refer to is me,' said Ethel, poking her head around the door, ‘then I heard yer.' She glanced at the gin bottle. ‘I'll keep my mouth shut if you put a good word in with your father so he doesn't put me in the old people's home.'

The sisters stared at her and for several moments neither of them spoke. Then Jeanette said, ‘It could be out of our hands.'

‘You say a word to Dad,' said Hester in a hard voice, ‘and I'll see you regret it. For example, between us Jeanette and I could manhandle you into your bedroom right now and lock you in. It might be Christmas Eve but there'll be no mince pies and a glass of sherry for you! Dry bread and water, that's what you'll get.'

‘You wouldn't dare,' said Ethel in a quavering voice, backing away from them.

‘Just try us,' said Jeanette, a fierce expression on her face as she took a step towards her.

‘All right, I believe you!' cried Ethel. ‘I'll say nothing.'

They stared at her warily, not quite trusting her to keep her word. ‘Promise on the Bible,' said Hester.

‘You think that means something to her?' said Jeanette. ‘Get her to swear on her dead husband's memory.'

‘I don't have to swear on anything. I said I won't tell,' said Ethel, surprising them by darting towards the bath and snatching up the bottle of gin. She scurried out before they could stop her.

BOOK: Memories Are Made of This
9.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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