Mothers and Daughters (29 page)

‘That does sound like depression to me and we have tablets to lift that mood, but you’re a little young to have given up on life.’

‘I’ve not given up. I just don’t see a way through the fog.’ That bit was true enough.

‘Then let’s lift the fog and it’ll be clearer.’ He wrote out a prescription. ‘Come back in two weeks and let’s see if this helps your mood.’ He smiled, satisfied.

Connie snatched the paper and fled out into the waiting room. She’d got a bottle full of pills and hadn’t told him a thing. Round one to her. His writing was atrocious and she couldn’t read what the pills were but Jacob would know. She’d give them a try and if they were useless, then she’d swallow the lot and finish things off properly this time.

Rosa read her mother’s letter with concern. Maria had seen Connie in the street one afternoon and she’d almost ignored her, looking like a zombie, like an old woman, a shadow of her former self. The family
were worried about her. She hadn’t gone to university and was back working in Neville’s shop but she was no advert for Health and Herbs, not the state she was in.

Perhaps she ought to write to her and tell her all her news … perhaps not. She didn’t want to upset her again. She sat in her dressing room smiling at her own image in the mirror. Her face was beaming, blushing, her eyes bright. She was in love and it was so unexpected and exciting.

They were entertaining on the ship bound for Australia. It was a good crew, lots of handsome officers, some nice passengers too. She and Mel danced and sang in the troupe. The weather was fabulous and she’d got her sea legs. It was a huge ship with a first-class deck and top entertainers, magicians, comedians, top-notch pianist and big band, and a guest rock artist with his band.

There were rumours that Gerry and the Pacemakers were on board but when she went to watch the sound check rehearsal who should she bump into but Marty Gorman, strumming up a storm on his guitar. God! He was gorgeous! She’d forgotten how good he was on stage and she stared up at him in disbelief.

‘Up the Grasshoppers!’ she yelled, and he looked down and smiled.

‘Are they still in the First Division? Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?’

‘Nice try, but yes, you do. Our Lady of Sorrows …
one of the bumblebees. I knew your brother, Vincent … in my class. Rosa Santini – you knew my friend.’

‘You’re one of Connie’s mates? How is she?’ He ruffled his hair with his hand as if he was nervous.

‘Fine, no thanks to you,’ she snapped waltzing off.

‘Wait!’ he cried, jumping off the podium. ‘I can explain. I had to strike out on my own. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.’

‘Well, you did, and her family were furious with her when she got back.’

‘I’m sorry. Give her my best when you see her again. Did she do her exams in the end?’

Rosa nodded but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook ‘I’ve not seen her for yonks, but you could sing a few of her songs and help get her name on some song sheets. She’s already had one stolen from her.’

‘How come?’

Connie told him all about Shady Sadie and ‘Colours of My Love’.

‘I have one or two of hers but they’re not my style now. Fancy a drink?’

‘No, thanks … things to do.’ Rosa tore herself away, trying to play it cool. How could she even think of chatting up Connie’s old flame?

The flowers came every night before the show: roses, pretty bouquets from the florist’s shop flown in from South Africa; wonderful exotic blooms, oranges, golds and crimson.

Mel was green with envy. ‘Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen, is it?’

‘Shipboard romances don’t last; you should know that by now,’ Rosa argued, but she crept at the back of the theatre none the less to see his act most nights when she was free.

Would Connie mind if she had a secret fling? It was all over with them but it was only a year ago. She didn’t want to upset Con, but what the eye didn’t see … They were young, full of lust and miles from shore. Why shouldn’t she have a good time? It wouldn’t last. She’d seen enough of these stars to know they had a girl at every gig, hotel room and house, but she was curious. What a feather in her cap to make out with Ricky Romero, the Gypsy King, even if he was just Marty Gorman from Roper Avenue. There were still three more weeks before they docked. Perhaps it was time to let her guard down and give him the once-over. Nothing too heavy, just a bit of fun before he set off on his tour down under and she cruised back home. All work and no play was a mug’s game, especially aboard an ocean-going liner. Connie would never know a thing …

Jacob made Connie give the pills to Gran when she got home. He’d left instructions that she was to be treated like a child and doled them out one at a time. He needn’t have bothered, for they were useless. If she was tired before, now she was exhausted, ten
times more lethargic, and dry-mouthed, sleeping night and day, dragging her limbs back and forth, her lips unable to articulate words. She felt like one of those victims in a horror movie, night of the living dead.

‘I can’t be doing with these,’ she complained when she returned to see Dr Blackie, plonking the packet on his desk. ‘I can’t think straight. Dr Friedmann wonders if the dosage is too high.’

The doctor wasn’t impressed with her diagnosis or Jacob’s. ‘I am the one who decides your dosage. Perhaps you’re not as depressed as you thought. We’ll try something else but first I want to hear all about your mood.’ He shone a lamp in her eyes so she blinked and couldn’t see his face at first.

She didn’t want to tell him anything about her moods. She was sick of them. ‘I just want to feel some brightness, to see colours again, to feel life is worth living. I have no moods, just one long continuous grey fug to push through.’

He handed out another prescription and told her to come back in two weeks again. The pills this time had the opposite effect, making her twitchy and restless. Her mind was racing ahead and it reminded her of the purple hearts they popped to keep awake when they were living in the van, her heart racing and thudding in her ears. She couldn’t eat.

Back she went and she could see he was sick of the sight of her. ‘I give you medication to slow you
down, and to speed you up but none of it works. Have you thought that it isn’t medication you need but a proper job with prospects, time fulfilled so you don’t keep dwelling on your disappointments? I’m not sure you are telling me the whole truth about your stay in Leeds, but without honesty I can’t help you.’ He peered over his glasses and she stood up to leave. ‘Perhaps if I send for your notes from your doctor there I might get a fuller picture.’

If he got those he’d know about her pregnancy, and the family would be shamed all over again.

‘You’re right. I’ve taken up too much of your time. I’ll find work and stick with the medication … Thank you,’ she said. What a waste of time.

‘I still want to see you in two weeks,’ he ordered.

Not on your life, Dr Valium, she thought, racing out of the surgery on winged feet. Fear of discovery had done more than any tranquilliser. The fog was lifted for an instant. She would effect her own cure somehow. No more talking to a stranger who didn’t understand just what she’d been through or bother to put her at ease enough to trust him with her secret sorrow. It felt like a Gestapo interrogation with that man.

Keep busy, don’t mope about what you can’t change, just keep busy … As if to prove her resolve she took a hike up to the Moorlands Estate to see her new goddaughter, Kim. If she could face mother and baby now, she could face anything.

Joy heard the doorbell ringing but sat tight. If she waited they might go away. She didn’t want anyone to see her in this state, but she couldn’t resist seeing who it was this time and pulled the net curtain aside to catch Connie staring up at her. She hadn’t seen her for months.

‘Oh, it’s you … We were just resting,’ she lied when she opened the door. How else could she explain herself still in a dressing gown and slippers at this hour? She had to look twice to see if this pale skinny woman with a bubble cut was really her half-sister.

‘What happened to you?’ Connie said, barging through the door, pointing to the bruise on Joy’s cheek and her puffy lip. ‘You look how I feel,’ she quipped.

‘I had an accident in the car, trying to steer and banged myself on the wheel.’

‘I didn’t know you drove,’ Connie quizzed.

‘I’m learning. I heard you were back. We were sort of expecting you. Come and see Kim, but don’t wake her. I’ve only just got her off.’ Another lie. She was happiest when Kim slept, and never woke her up.

‘So what’ve you been doing in Leeds? I heard you went to Auntie Diana’s.’

‘Helping out at Grove Park with the youngsters. I meant to come for the baptism but you got my message when I was sick? Sorry about missing the christening.’

‘You didn’t miss much. There’s been a bust-up in the family but no one will tell me why. Do you know?’

Connie shook her head and gave Kim a brief glance, then turned away.

‘When she wakes you can hold her,’ Joy smiled. It was good to have company.

‘Better not … I’m not good with babies,’ Connie replied.

‘Neither am I, she terrifies me,’ Joy confessed. ‘Mummy takes her when she can, and Irene, of course. They dote on her.’ Another lie. Denny’s parents hardly visited these days. His father took one look at his granddaughter, at her olive skin and black hair, and called her a piccaninny.

Joy showed her round the house. It was spick and span, ready for tonight’s event, with all the cushions plumped up and the dishes put away, as Denny insisted. You couldn’t tell there was a baby in the house.

‘It’s all very neat.’

‘Denny likes it that way. I’ve got a do tonight,’ Joy replied. Cleaning was the only thing that interested her. It stopped her from moping.

‘Is he still with the Grasshoppers?’

‘No.’ Joy paused. No point telling her he’d been dropped from the team. ‘He works for his father now in the coal company.’ She heard herself sigh, thinking how bad-tempered he was these days, and how he spent evenings in the pub, then came home full of piss and wind and spoiling for a fight. She took to bed early, but if Kim woke, he lashed out and blamed her.

‘Would you like a cup of tea? I’d ask you to stay but Den’s home early these days and likes his meal on the table sharp. I’ve got a party tonight and I’m going to leave Kim at Mummy’s.’

‘Lucky you,’ Connie smiled.

‘Oh, not that sort of party, just Tupperware. I’m hosting tonight. Denny’s night out, just the neighbours, not your sort of thing. You host and get a present for what is sold. Look.’ Joy pointed to the shelves in the fridge filled with pastel-coloured plastic containers. ‘It’s really good stuff.’

They were being polite like strangers but she couldn’t tell Connie just how bad things were or she’d burst into tears and Kim might wake up.

Connie sat on the edge of the Draylon sofa, trying not to make crumbs.

‘How’s things?’ she was asking, and Joy was glad she had on her long-sleeved dressing gown so she’d not see the bruises up her arm. ‘So when do you take your test?’

‘What test?’ Joy was puzzled.

‘The driving test,’ Connie said and Joy realised she’d been nearly caught out.

‘Oh, not yet. I’m not very confident.’

‘Will Denny let you use the car?’ Connie was looking at her strangely.

‘Eventually … I was half wondering if I could do some evening work but that’s a long way off. Mummy will baby-sit. She’s marvellous. I don’t know what I’d do without her. You need your mum when you’ve had a baby. I’m sorry, that was tactless, but I’m so glad you called.’

‘Shall we go out one evening then, you and me, and catch up?’ Connie said.

‘I’m not sure. I’d have to ask Denny.’

‘Doesn’t he baby-sit?’

‘No, never. It’s not a man’s job, is it?’

‘Never mind, your mum could do it instead.’

‘Oh, no, she’s not allowed to sit here. I have to take Kim round there, and now that she and Jacob are an item, it’s not so easy.’ She saw the look on Connie’s face. ‘But I’ll ask. Have you heard from Rosa?’

‘Just postcards … from the high seas.’ Connie sighed. ‘And you?’

‘Just postcards.’ She looked at her watch. She must
get Connie away before Den came home. There was so much still to do before the party. Her hand went out to wipe a mark off the table. Connie was watching her every move and the blue-black mark round her wrist.

‘I’d better be off. Hope it goes well tonight.’ Connie rose to leave, eyeing Joy carefully. ‘And mind the steering wheel. That looks nasty to me.’

‘Thanks for coming. Give me a ring and I’ll make sure I’m dressed next time,’ Joy laughed at her feeble joke, ushering Connie out of the hall and onto the drive. She shut the door quickly just as Kim woke up for another feed. Now she was late, the meal wasn’t ready and Denny would be in a slap-happy mood again.

She’d seen Connie’s envy of her pristine house, her baby, all the comforts of being a married couple, but oh, how she envied Connie’s freedom. She’d give anything to be living like her and not a prisoner in her own home.

Connie didn’t see Joy again for many weeks. For someone who was home all day she was elusive, and no mention was made of the outing. When she phoned Joy was always busy or couldn’t get a sitter, Kimberley was sick or some such excuse. She began to wonder if Joy was giving her a message until Auntie Su said she hardly saw her daughter either.

‘Denny keeps them to himself, and she doesn’t seem herself, but I’ve offered to host a party for her next week. It’ll be the only chance I’ll get to see her on her own. You must come and give her some support.’

‘I’ve no money for Tupperware,’ Connie was quick to reply. It was not her scene at all, a gaggle of screaming women crushed in the parlour at the Waverley.

‘I know, but the numbers count, and as long as we can find someone else to host another party Joy will be happy. You can help me look after little Kim.’

Connie didn’t want to look at little Kim, she was too close in age to Anna, too much a reminder of what she’d done. How her life would’ve been if only she hadn’t signed those papers. How could she bear to think of where the baby was and who was giving her the hugs and kisses that were hers by right?

Connie didn’t go back to Dr Valium again – she daren’t risk exposure – but helping out at the new shop in the High Street, having to get up each morning and put a smile on her face, was slowly helping to dispel some of the fug in her mind. There was a wage, money to buy records and clothes if only she could drum up some interest. It was as if she was marking time until she started some career.

How strange to have regressed back to familiar routines, going to the theatre with Neville. He was subdued since his public shaming. Trevor had
disappeared out of town and Neville daren’t put a foot wrong in case he was being targeted. At least going out with his cousin made things look normal, but she sensed he was as unhappy as she. Their lives were on hold.

If only Rosa would come home and Joy would get back to being her old self, if only they could turn the clock back to how things were, but all of them were living lives on separate tram tracks, waving from a distance. Nothing could ever be the same because her heart ached for her baby, the secret pain in her chest that never went away. This secret kept her apart as if she were surrounded by a prickly wire fence that sectioned her off from the rest of the family. Some of them knew she was there, but thought it best never to open the subject of why she was so distant. Others hadn’t a clue and it must stay that way.

One Saturday morning she took herself off in Gran’s old car over the Pennines to Leeds. She couldn’t help it. She parked up in Leeds and strolled slowly and deliberately around the bustling market, the shopping centre and busy backstreets. She drove through Headingley and West Park, round the ring road, searching. There were red-haired toddlers. No baby fitted the fantasy, and the whole venture was stupid and a waste of petrol. The baby could be miles away by now, in York or Harrogate, Ripon or Bradford.

There was a picture of herself as a baby in her wallet, the first one taken at the Waverley in the back
garden with Neville and Joy. She was praying her baby might look something like her, with that unmistakable hair, but this photo was so creased and worn. It was all she had to remind her of Anna. She drove back exhausted and tearful, wondering why she was punishing herself like this.

On the night of Joy’s party, Connie helped Su set out the drawing room with chairs and a table to display all the plastic containers and utensils. Denny had dropped boxes of the stuff with a huff and a puff. He ignored Connie. He’d grown flabby and jowled, with a moustache to hide his petulant mouth.

‘Where’s little Kim? In the car?’ Su asked with a politeness that worried Connie. It was almost as if she was afraid of him.

‘She’s gone to Mother’s. Why Joy needs to do this rubbish I don’t know,’ he muttered. ‘It’s not as if she needs to work,’ he smirked, looking directly at Connie.

‘It’s always good to have an interest,’ Connie said. ‘She must be good at selling.’

‘She’s useless. People feel sorry for her, that’s all. They buy out of pity and I’m not having any of that,’ he said, banging down the boxes. ‘You sort them.’

‘How’s her driving,’ Connie asked, more for something to say.

‘What driving? No woman will be let loose in my Consul.’

‘No, of course not. I must’ve got it wrong,’ Connie backtracked. Were Joy’s driving lessons a secret?

‘Women are hopeless with four wheels unless it’s a pram,’ he laughed.

The neighbours in Division Street and some from Green Lane began to gather at seven, familiar faces who wanted to know all Connie’s doings, but there was no sign of Joy. Su was beginning to panic by the time she burst through the door, white-faced, with another pile of boxes.

‘Sorry I’m late. Rene was late for Kim, and Denny had gone out. I had to get a taxi.’ She laughed it off but they could see she was trembling.

‘I could’ve come for you,’ Connie whispered. ‘Here, let me help you set things up.’

If she wanted to be a top Tupperware saleswoman, Joy needed transport, and quick.

Joy delivered her spiel about a hundred uses for Tupperware containers from humble cornflake boxes to mustard pots and ‘Party Susan’, a hostess hors-d’oeuvres carousel. There were sealed cheese boxes, sandwich holders, milk jugs in sugared almond colours – turquoise, apricot and pale blue.

Joy came alive as she delivered her special pointers, special offers, skimming along the lines, describing their qualities so convincingly that Connie could feel the purses twitching in the handbags. There were even storage boxes for toys and sewing and tools. Everything was so versatile, not
cheap but enticing. Who didn’t want to have a tidy kitchen?

Soon everyone was scrabbling on the floor, opening lids, looking at catalogues and making orders. Joy looked neat in her matching twinset and pinafore dress. But Connie sensed an agitation under the surface.

No one else volunteered to host a party so Connie suggested that she and Gran do one in Sutter’s Fold. There was such a look of relief on Joy’s face. Su and Connie dished out the refreshments: trays full of crackers decorated with cream cheese and pineapple, pâté, bite-size sausages on sticks and cake squares and flapjacks.

Joy began to pack up her boxes. She looked tired but her order book was full enough for it to have been worthwhile.

‘You’re a natural saleswoman,’ Connie said. ‘You enjoy it?’

‘It gets me out of the house,’ Joy replied, turning away.

‘Denny must be proud of you,’ Connie added, but Joy just shrugged. ‘How’ll you get home?’

‘On the bus. I’ll leave the boxes for Den to pick up later.’

‘It’ll be good when you can drive then.’ Connie was fishing.

‘There’s no point in learning. I’d never get the car.’

‘But you said last time …’ Connie began, and then
paused. ‘All that stuff about you learning to drive was a lie? Why?’ Joy ignored her. ‘Look, I’m driving you home. We can put the boxes on the back seat and in the boot.’

‘No, that’s kind but I can’t trouble you.’ Joy smiled her professional smile but Connie wasn’t fooled.

‘I insist. I didn’t buy anything. You must learn to drive, then you could take Kim out each day while Denny’s at work.’

They collected up the boxes. Auntie Su wanted to give them supper but Joy was anxious to be off. ‘It’s getting late,’ she pleaded, and sat in silence as Connie drove her back through the town. Joy was shivering. The Morris Traveller was draughty.

‘You OK?’ Connie asked, but Joy was lost in her own world, not hearing her. She shot out of the car before it had even stopped, grabbing the boxes. There were no lights on in the house. ‘Is Denny not back yet?’

‘No,’ she sighed and there was such a look of relief on her face. ‘It’ll be fine now.’

‘What’ll be fine?’ Connie asked.

‘Nothing. Let’s get these inside before …’ Joy was like a whirlwind, whipping her stock through the door and into the cupboard under the stairs. The bigger stuff had to go into the garage. Connie was struggling to keep up.

‘Just leave the rest on the doorstep,’ Joy ordered. ‘Fine, thanks … Thanks for the lift.’ Joy was blocking
Connie’s path across the door. ‘It’s late. You’ve got the shop in the morning,’ she said, dismissing her.

‘I don’t have to rush.’ Connie was inviting herself in but Joy was pushing her back.

‘Denny’ll be back soon. It’s better we leave it here,’ she whispered.

‘Denny doesn’t like me much,’ Connie said. There was no point in hiding the obvious.