Authors: Kitty Neale
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ Phyllis said as she poured them both another cup of tea. She then began to giggle. The giggle turned to a laugh, then she was almost crying with mirth, until able to gasp, ‘I … I don’t know about a new lease of life, Rose. If … If you’re at it too much you’re more likely to give him a heart attack that finishes him off.’
Rose laughed too, but at last they sobered, Phyllis then saying, ‘I’m sorry, Rose, I really am. I don’t know when I turned into a prude, but somewhere along the way I did, and you’re right, I shouldn’t have judged you – then, or now. Mind you,’ she added without malice, ‘those low-cut tops and the make-up didn’t help.’
‘You should try one out on Stan. It might give him a new lease of life too.’
Phyllis chuckled, winked cheekily and said, ‘Fortunately he doesn’t need one.’
They laughed together again, and it was as though the closeness they had once shared was slowly creeping back. Rose hoped it would deepen, but only time would tell.
Though Tommy told his mother that Rose hadn’t been the woman his father left her for, it did little to change her attitude towards Amy.
Tommy wasn’t going to let this stand in his way, and on the twenty-second of June, the night before Amy’s birthday, he was on his way to the pub where he knew he’d find Amy’s father, determined to do things properly and ask his permission to propose.
The stench of tobacco stung his nostrils as Tommy walked into the bar at seven thirty and the smoke from many cigarettes was thick. He coughed, hoping he didn’t have to resort to using his inhaler.
Stan Miller was at the bar, men on each side of him, and Tommy swallowed nervously before saying respectfully, ‘Mr Miller, I hope you don’t mind, but can I have a private word with you?’
Stan raised his eyebrows, but said, ‘Of course you can, but first, what are you having to drink?’
‘Err … just a half of mild ale, please.’
‘Coming up,’ Stan said and after it was poured, he picked up his own pint of beer and indicated a vacant table.
They sat down and dry-mouthed, Tommy took a gulp of ale, finding that the words he had so carefully prepared were stuck in his throat. Another gulp of ale didn’t help, and he just sat, unable to say a word.
‘Come on, Tommy, spit it out. What’s this about a private word?’
‘I … wanted to ask your permission to propose to Amy.’
‘Yeah, well I guessed as much,’ Stan said, taking a swig of beer before continuing. ‘Right then, lad, I’ll tell you how I feel about it. I’ve got nothing against you, Tommy, but I can’t say the same about your mother. I can’t see her being happy about it and I don’t want her making my Amy’s life a misery.’
‘Don’t worry, she won’t. I’ll see to that,’ Tommy assured him.
‘I suppose with your dad gone, your mother relies on you financially. How are you coping with running his firm?’
‘It’s
mine
now, Mr Miller, and I’m doing well. I’ve already expanded the business and profits are well up.’
‘That’s good, but if you marry Amy you’ll have two homes to support. Now I hate to say this, but I know you’ve got a weak chest. What happens when you go down with bouts of bronchitis? Who’s going to look after things then?’
‘I’ve got a bloke working for me who’s capable of running things in my absence,’ Tommy assured him.
Stan Miller took another swig of beer, his face closed, but then he said, ‘All right then, but of course it’s up to Amy. If she wants to marry you I won’t stand in your way.’
‘Thanks, Mr Miller,’ Tommy said, smiling at last.
‘It wouldn’t have made much difference if I’d refused. With Amy being eighteen tomorrow and you twenty-one, you don’t need my permission.’
‘I know, but I wanted to do things properly.’
‘I still think you’re both a bit young, so I hope it’s going to be a long engagement.’
‘I don’t know, Mr Miller, not too long I hope.’
‘When are you going to propose?’
‘Tomorrow night,’ Tommy replied, ‘and as I’ve got something special planned I’d rather Amy doesn’t know about the proposal in advance.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.’
‘Thanks, Mr Miller. Now can I buy you another drink?’
‘Yes, a pint of bitter.’
Glad to have got it over with, Tommy went to the bar, and he remained in the pub chatting to Amy’s dad for another hour before making his way home. He still had to break the news to his mother, but he’d wait until after he’d proposed to Amy.
When Tommy left, Stan was about to go back to the bar when Frank Cole came up to the table. The man had looked awful after his beating and there were still livid bruises around his eyes. ‘Stan, did you hear that I lost my job?’
‘Yeah, but you’re sure to get another one.’
‘In the meantime I’m skint so will you buy me a pint?’
‘Yeah, all right,’ Stan agreed, though he wasn’t happy about it. Broke or not, it didn’t stop Frank from coming to the pub every night and scrounging drinks.
‘Thanks, and did I just see you talking to Tommy Frost?’
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Stan replied, keeping shtum as he’d promised and saying instead, ‘Did you hear that Tommy’s father didn’t go off with Rose?’
‘Yeah, Carol told me,’ Frank replied.
‘Yeah, well, the gossips got it wrong.’
‘They get a lot of things wrong, Stan, and I should know.’
Stan nodded as they walked up to the bar, where after buying the man a drink he later saw Frank cadging another one off someone else. By nine thirty, Stan could see that the man was getting drunk, while he decided it was time to go home.
He called his goodbyes and stepped outside, his thoughts returning to Tommy as he limped to Lark Rise. He’d say nothing to Amy, but he’d tell Phyllis that a proposal was imminent.
Celia was beginning to feel isolated and missed the social life she had once enjoyed. She wasn’t invited to the Willards’ for dinner now, and though she had been a member of the Conservative Club, since George left none of their acquaintances had been in touch. It was as though she’d been ostracised and it stung badly.
All she had left was her son, and Celia was relieved that he had come home before nine, a lot earlier than she’d expected. Thomas had only told her that he’d been to see someone to discuss business, and though she had pressed him, he had refused to be drawn. Celia had found that Thomas could be stubborn and forceful, traits that she hadn’t been aware of before he had taken over the running of the business. In such a short time he had increased profits and trade, but she still worried that he was moving too quickly, though any attempts she made to point this out were dismissed as though her opinion counted for nothing. It angered her, but she was determined not to give up, to become more involved in the running of the business and if necessary, prevent Thomas from expanding any further in this current financial year.
An hour had now passed, but there was little conversation. Thomas was reading a book on business management, but Celia saw that he had hardly turned more than a couple of pages. She was sure he had something on his mind, and said, ‘Is there something worrying you, darling?’
‘No,’ Thomas replied, looking up. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘You seem rather withdrawn.’
‘I’m reading, Mother.’
‘Not from what I’ve seen, but if you don’t want to talk about it, at least we can discuss something else. I’m alone too much, Thomas, so when you
are
at home it would be nice if we could have some sort of conversation.’
‘After a busy day at work and then going out earlier, I’m tired, Mother, and all I want to do is relax.’
‘You’re not too tired to see Amy several nights a week, and when was the last time you spent a Sunday at home with me?’
His expression hardening, Thomas said, ‘Had you apologised to Amy, I’m sure if invited she would have joined us for dinner on occasional Sundays, and at other times.’
‘Thomas, as I pointed out before, I wasn’t myself then, and I thought Amy would be more … more forgiving. I … I’m still deeply hurt that your father left me for another woman, and … and …’ Celia stuttered, forcing tears to her eyes.
‘Mum, please, don’t get upset again.’
‘I … I think I’ll go to bed,’ Celia said as she stood up. As always, Thomas couldn’t bear to see her crying; the weapon a useful one. She had won again and as she didn’t want that slut of a girl in her home, nothing would induce her to apologise. She’d planted another seed against Amy, showing her to be unforgiving, and one day soon Celia hoped all her barbs would come to fruition.
Amy had finished sewing the hem of a skirt that had come loose and Phyllis said, ‘With Rose getting married at the end of August, we’ll have to sort out something to wear.’
‘Mum, you never had a good word to say about Rose. What changed your mind?’
Phyllis sighed. She wasn’t proud of herself, and was determined that in future she wouldn’t be a prude, or listen to gossip. ‘I jumped to the wrong conclusion about Rose and Tommy’s dad, and about a lot of other things too. She’s not as bad as she’s been made out to be, but no doubt the gossips will be tearing her to shreds now that she’s going to marry Samuel Jacobs.’
‘He
is
a bit old for her, Mum.’
‘Yes I know, and rich, but he knows that Rose doesn’t love him so it’s not as if she’s making a monkey out of him. He was lonely, but now Rose takes care of him and it’s given him a new lease of life,’ Phyllis said, but then recalling her conversation with Rose she giggled. Old or not, it seemed that Samuel Jacobs was still capable of having an active sex life, but it wasn’t something she could tell Amy.
‘What’s so funny?’ Amy asked.
‘Nothing … nothing, love,’ Phyllis said, relieved then that Stan walked in.
‘Hello, my lovelies,’ he said, grinning.
‘You’re drunk,’ Phyllis said.
‘No, I’m not. If you think that you should see Frank Cole. When I left he could hardly stand up.’
‘Carol’s worried about him,’ Amy said. ‘He’s so hungover every morning and since losing his job he hasn’t tried to find another one.’
‘Well, I don’t know what they’re going to do for money then,’ Phyllis said. ‘It’s a crying shame. The man’s gone to pieces since Daphne left him.’
Stan walked over and perched himself on her lap, saying with a grin, ‘I’m so irresistible that I don’t have to worry about you walking out on me.’
‘Don’t kid yourself and get off me, you daft bugger,’ Phyllis appealed. ‘You weigh a ton and you’re squashing my legs.’
‘A ton! Now you’ve offended me,’ Stan said.
‘I’ll do more than offend you if you don’t move.’
‘Give me a kiss and I might.’
‘Oh, all right,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek.
‘I suppose that will have to do for now,’ Stan said as he stood up.
Phyllis looked at Amy, saw that her daughter was grinning, and said, ‘I don’t know what’s so funny.’
‘You two are,’ Amy said. ‘The way you carry on at times is hilarious, but I’m off to bed now.’
‘Not before you kiss your poor downtrodden dad too.’
‘I’ll give you downtrodden,’ Phyllis threatened.
‘See what I mean. I married a dragon,’ Stan said, appealing to Amy.
It didn’t work, and with a swift kiss on her father’s cheek she shot upstairs, her laughter trailing behind her.
‘Right, Stan, what’s this about a dragon?’ Phyllis asked.
‘You know I was only joking, and now that Amy’s out of the way, I’ve got something to tell you.’
Phyllis listened, and though she had suspected that if Amy continued to see Tommy this would eventually happen, her stomach turned over. ‘Oh, Stan,’ she whispered. ‘I wasn’t expecting this yet.’
‘I know, love, I know, but it’s sure to be a long engagement so we aren’t losing our daughter yet.’
His words made Phyllis feel marginally better and soon after they went to bed where she found a measure of comfort in her husband’s arms. She thought about warning Amy that Tommy was going to propose, that it would give her daughter time to think long and hard about her answer
–
yet even if she did, Phyllis knew that Amy would still say yes.
There was no denying that Tommy and Amy loved each other, and when they eventually got married, at least there’d be something to look forward to. Grandchildren, Phyllis thought, smiling a little now as she at last drifted off to sleep.
Am
y woke up on Saturday morning, her eighteenth birthday, wishing that she didn’t have to go to work. At least the shop would be busy, and she’d made friends with Doreen, who’d been taken on when Linda had been sacked. Doreen was funny and they shared a few laughs when they got the chance, so with any luck the time would pass quickly and then tonight she would be going out with Tommy. Though it wasn’t a big occasion like a twenty-first birthday, Tommy had told her earlier in the week that he had planned something special.
After yawning and stretching out her arms, Amy got out of bed. Her parents didn’t work on Saturdays, but when she went downstairs Amy found that they were both up and seeing her, they smiled.
‘Happy Birthday,’ her mother said, giving her a hug, which was followed by one from her father.
Amy was then given a birthday card and a flat box tied with a ribbon. She eagerly opened it, smiling with delight when she found a pretty silver bracelet inside. ‘I love it. Thanks Mum, thanks Dad,’ she said, kissing them both.
‘I’m glad you like it,’ her mum said.
Amy then read her card, misty-eyed at her parents’ words of love. Breakfast followed, and they had only just finished eating when there was a knock on the door, her mum letting Mabel in.
‘Happy Birthday, Amy,’ she said, passing another envelope and package. ‘I wanted to catch you before you left for work.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Amy enthused, quickly reading the nice card and then opening the package to find a manicure set in a small tapestry case. ‘This is lovely and just what I need,’ she said, hugging her.