A Broken Family (13 page)

Read A Broken Family Online

Authors: Kitty Neale

Until he got more information about the bloke from Carol, it would have to wait, but in no mood to go home to an empty house, Frank decided to see his sons. He would have to tell them about their mother and might as well get it over with.

He went to their flat on Lavender Hill, and his elder son Paul opened the door when he arrived. ‘Well this is a surprise. Come on in, Dad.’

Frank followed his son into their living room, where Davy, his younger one, looked equally surprised to see him as he almost spilled a pretty red-haired girl from his lap. ‘Dad! What’s up?’

‘We need to talk, and in private,’ Frank said, looking pointedly at the redhead.

‘Sorry, Gloria,’ Davy said as he pushed the girl to her feet. ‘You’ll have to get lost for a while.’

She pouted prettily, but then shrugged, saying nonchalantly, ‘Fine, I’ll leave. See you around.’

Dave followed the redhead out of the room, but he was soon back, smiling with amusement as he said, ‘Gloria pretends she doesn’t care, but she can’t get enough of me.’

‘We’ve got more important things to talk about than your love life,’ Frank snapped.

Dave’s eyes widened, but he only said, ‘All right, so sit down and tell us what this is all about.’

Frank took a seat, his sons too, before he said abruptly, ‘Your mother’s left me.’

‘What?’ Paul exclaimed. ‘No, I don’t believe it.’

‘Believe it or not, but I’m telling you she’s gone,’ Frank said as he pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to Paul. ‘You’d better read that.’

‘What does it say?’ Dave asked.

Paul read it out, and both looked stunned. There was a pause, as though they needed time to take it in, but then Davy said, ‘So Mum just left, leaving this letter, and we’re supposed to wait until she gets in touch with us?’

‘That’s about it,’ Frank said.

‘There must be more to it than this. Did you have an argument or something?’ Paul asked. ‘If you did, once Mum has calmed down she’s sure to come back.’

‘There was no argument. Just that letter,’ Frank said wearily as exhaustion now hit him. ‘There’s one other thing. Carol was admitted to hospital with food poisoning, but she’s fine. She might be allowed home tomorrow so there’s no point in going to visit her.’

‘What did she eat to cause that?’ Dave questioned.

‘She isn’t sure, but it was probably a bit of dodgy fish,’ Frank lied. ‘Anyway, I’m bushed, so I’m off now.’

For the first time, he heard concern in Dave’s voice. ‘Dad, with Mum leaving like that, it must be hard on you. Are you all right?’

‘Yeah, I’ll cope.’

‘Have you tried Gran’s? Mum might be there,’ Paul suggested.

‘She isn’t. It’s the first place I checked.’

For the first time Paul echoed his brother’s concern. ‘If you need anything, or any help to find Mum, just ask, Dad.’

‘You read her letter. Your mother doesn’t want to be found, and to be honest, that suits me fine.’

‘You don’t mean that, Dad.’

‘Yes I do, son,’ Frank said and after saying goodbye, he tiredly made his way home. He had meant what he said to his son. After walking out on him like that, leaving just a blunt letter, he wasn’t going to run after Daphne. She was looking for a new life, so let her find one. She wouldn’t find it easy without a man bringing home a wage, and with few skills, he doubted she’d get much of a job.

With a grim sense of satisfaction, Frank imagined his wife living in a grotty one-room flat, probably beginning to miss him and the decent life he’d worked hard to provide her with. She’d eventually come crawling back, he decided, and he would enjoy shutting the door in her face.

With that thought still in his mind, Frank arrived home, and despite his bravado, he hated walking into an empty house. Still, it wouldn’t be for long. Carol would be home again soon and the two of them would jog along nicely.

Frank went to bed, his last thought that he’d keep his daughter safe and close to him. From now on he’d make sure that no other man ever laid a finger on her again.

Chapter Fourteen

Amy was in bed on that Tuesday night too, unable to sleep as her mind twisted and turned. Any hopes she’d held that Rose hadn’t run off with Tommy’s dad had been quashed. Her mother had been to Rose’s flat on her way home from work and found it empty.

Added to that, Amy was concerned about Carol and after a restless night she woke on Wednesday, hoping to find out how her friend was before she left for work. When her mother arrived home from her early morning cleaning job, Amy was ready to leave and said, ‘I’m going ask Mrs Cole how Carol is.’

‘All right, love,’ Phyllis said as she kicked off her shoes. ‘Let me know what she says.’

Amy hurried out, surprised when instead of Mrs Cole, Carol’s father opened the door. ‘Err, hello, Mr Cole, I thought you’d be at work.’

‘I’ve got a couple of days off.’

Amy wondered if it was to do with her friend and asked worriedly, ‘Is Carol all right?’

‘Yes, she’s fine. It was food poisoning.’

‘Can I go to see her this evening?’

‘There’s no point. She’ll probably be allowed home later today, or if not, tomorrow morning.’

Amy hadn’t seen Mrs Cole since Carol had been taken ill, so asked, ‘Is your wife ill with food poisoning too?’

There was a momentary hesitation, but then he said, ‘Yeah, a touch of it and she’s in bed. That’s why I’m taking a couple of days off.’

‘Oh dear, can I do anything to help?’

‘Thanks for the offer, but we’re coping. It didn’t hit Daphne as hard as Carol, and as I was just about to make her a cup of tea I’d best get on with it.’

The door closed before Amy could say anything else and turned to see Mabel Povis on her doorstep, arms folded across her chest.

Amy tensed, dreading that the news had broken out about Tommy’s dad and Rose, but instead Mrs Povis asked, ‘Well, did you manage to get anything out of Frank Cole this time?’

Relieved, Amy said, ‘Yes, Carol has food poisoning, but she’s getting over it now, and though Mrs Cole wasn’t as bad, she’s been in bed with it too.’

‘She can’t be much of a cook then,’ Mabel said sarcastically. ‘Still, it explains why I haven’t heard a peep out of Daphne Cole for a couple of days. Sometimes her voice is loud enough to hear through my walls.’

A door opened on the other side of the road, and moments later, tubby, middle-aged Edna Price scurried over to join them, her hair still in curlers and slippers on her feet. ‘Amy, I saw you talking to Frank Cole. What did he have to say?’

‘I’m sorry, I must go or I’ll be late for work, but Mrs Povis will tell you.’

‘Well, Edna,’ Mabel began.

After hurrying indoors again to tell her mother what she had found out, Amy walked briskly up Lark Rise, deciding that rather than be late, she’d get a bus to work. She hadn’t seen Tommy since he’d told her that his dad had left, and though she hoped he was all right, when she reached his house, Amy didn’t have the courage to knock on the door.

Maybe he’d come to her house that evening, Amy hoped; but once again she feared that when the truth came out, Tommy would never want to see her again.

Celia’s head was still spinning with all the ramifications she’d had to face since George had left two days ago, not least that Thomas now owned the business. Celia had seen
a change in her son’s personality almost overnight

he
had taken over the running of the business with a maturity that surprised her. Already that morning, over breakfast, Thomas had said he was going to employ another glazier. It would mean buying another van, but he seemed confident that it would be money well spent.

It had been such a short time since he had taken over and Celia felt that Thomas was moving too fast. She tried to caution him, but he’d dismissed her concerns as though her opinion counted for nothing.

Alone in the house now, Celia sat unmoving, uncaring that she was still in her dressing gown and the housework untouched. George had left her and Celia’s emotions were raw. Where was he? And who was this other woman? Was it someone she knew? Tears filled her eyes. She had thought her marriage perfect, her home one to be proud of, and had enjoyed her social standing, but now her life was never going to be the same again.

The doorbell chimed and Celia stiffened. She didn’t want to see anyone, and hoped that whoever it was would go away. The bell rang again, followed shortly after by the rattle of the letterbox as something was pushed through, then, thankfully, silence.

Celia went into the hall, saw the envelope and bent to pick it up. It was addressed to both her and George and was from Libby Willard – a formal invitation to attend a reception to celebrate her daughter’s engagement. To add to her misery, the reception was to be held in the Conservative Club. Celia sank onto the bottom of the stairs, covering her face with her hands.

Libby obviously didn’t know yet that George had left her, but it was sure to come out eventually. When it did, and even if the invitation still stood, Celia knew that she would never be able to walk into the Conservative Club on her own. She could just imagine the looks of disdain or pity on the other women’s faces and she couldn’t stand the thought of that.

Self-pity could have swamped Celia, but she was a proud woman and that pride sustained her now as she rose to her feet. She had done it once, dragged herself out of the slums, and there was no way she was going to let people look down on her now. George had shunned her offer to help him with the business, the paperwork that he found impossible, but she wouldn’t let that happen again. She’d insist that Thomas allowed her to be involved, and together they’d expand the business. With her help it would be a success, and she’d be a rich woman, able to hold her head up high.

Until then, if anyone dared to upset her, she’d swat them away like flies.

Mabel had told Edna Price about Carol and the food poisoning, adding that Daphne Cole was in bed with it too. In return she had been passed a bit of juicy gossip. It peeved her that Edna had heard about it before her, and she went to see Phyllis, saying indignantly as she stepped inside, ‘Here, Phyllis, why didn’t you tell me about your cousin, Rose? I had to hear it from Edna Price.’

‘I promised Amy I wouldn’t say anything and for her sake I was hoping that nobody would make the connection. Yet as they left on the same day, I should have guessed there was little chance of that. To ruin one marriage was bad enough, but to run off with George Frost, well, I could kill Rose, I really could.’

‘She’s done what?’ Mabel gasped, astounded.

Phyllis looked confused. ‘But … but you just said you heard about it from Edna Price.’

‘She didn’t tell me that! All she said is that Rose has been given another flat, and according to the woman who lives upstairs, she probably got the agent to re-house her by lying on her back.’

Phyllis groaned as she rubbed her eyes. ‘That sounds bad enough, but the truth is far worse.’

‘Rose, and George Frost! If I hadn’t heard it from you, I’d never have believed it.’

‘Mabel, promise me you’ll keep it to yourself. If people think that Rose just left because she’s been re-housed, there’s a chance that Celia Frost won’t hear the truth.’

‘What do you take me for? Of course I’ll keep it to myself,’ Mabel snapped, still peeved that Phyllis hadn’t confided in her. After all, they were supposed to be friends, and she was quite capable of keeping her mouth shut.

However, later that day, Mabel forgot her promise when she was chatting to Edna Price. The woman was going on about Rose and the agent again as if she was the font of all knowledge, and annoyed, Mabel took delight in putting her straight.

Tommy had been glad to leave for work. He felt sorry for his mother, but he just couldn’t cope with the emotional state she was in. One minute she was angry, the next she was crying, and clinging to him so much that he felt stifled.

When his father had left, Tommy had been stunned, unable to comprehend that he’d gone off with another woman. He wasn’t blind, and had heard the many arguments between his parents, but hadn’t expected it to come to this.

Once over the initial shock, Tommy knew he had to think clearly. He had no idea if his father would ever come back, but as the business had been handed over to him he was now responsible for their finances. His whole future depended on him making a success of the business and he’d been anxious to get started.

He
had
to build it up to ensure that the profits would eventually be sufficient to support two households; his mother’s, and when he got married, his own. He could have shied away from the burden, but though his health might be weak, Tommy’s mind was strong. There was a lot of potential for growth in the business, and already the labour exchange had sent him a man to interview.

Tommy liked Len Upwood on sight and was pleased with the man’s qualifications. He had a round, friendly, open face below light brown hair and Tommy only had one reservation

Len was in his late thirties and he might not take kindly to being given orders by a twenty-one-year-old. Yet even as that thought crossed his mind, Tommy realised that the man’s age and experience could work to his advantage. If the business took off and he could employ more staff, with his qualifications, Len would make an excellent foreman.

He decided to give Len a try to see if they could work well together and said, ‘At the moment this is a small business, passed on to me by my father. I’d like to expand and to eventually employ more staff, however, for now, if I offer you the job it would just be the two of us. How do you feel about coming to work for me on a trial basis? Let’s say for a month, and if it works out I’d be happy to make it a permanent position. I can match your previous wage, and though I can’t guarantee it on a regular basis, there will be the opportunity for overtime.’

‘That sounds fine to me, Mr Frost. I’d like to take the job.’

‘Good, and call me Tommy. There’s only one other thing. When can you start?’

‘How about tomorrow?’

‘Great,’ Tommy said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. ‘For now, until I can get another van delivered, I’ll do the in-house glass cutting and you can go out on installations. There are several jobs lined up for tomorrow, so I’ll see you at eight o’clock sharp.’

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