Authors: Kitty Neale
Phyllis would have too, but she still didn’t envy Rose. Stan might be a bit thoughtless at times, but in other ways he was a good husband. They might not be rich but Stan always had
the power to make her laugh, and that was something Phyllis
thought more precious than gold.
She couldn’t imagine life without Stan, yet during the past year two marriages in the street had fallen apart. Phyllis still couldn’t believe the events were linked
–
that George Frost and Daphne Cole had run off together. It was Mabel’s theory, and another nasty rumour she’d set in motion since Frank Cole’s death. It sickened Phyllis. Poor Carol had been through enough, and she had now become distant with Amy, as though wanting nothing more to do with anyone who lived on Lark Rise.
Mabel had seen everyone leaving next door, Phyllis and Stan walking off in one direction and Amy in the other. She’d worked it out of course. Phyllis was going to spend Christmas day with Rose, while Amy went to Celia Frost’s.
She could guess how Phyllis would feel about that, her precious daughter preferring to spend the day with her future mother-in-law instead of her, and Mabel smiled with grim satisfaction. She was still fuming that Phyllis had turned on her again when she’d told her about Carol’s abortion. It wasn’t as though she’d made it up, she was only speaking the truth, but Phyllis had gone on her high horse, ranting and raving about malicious gossip.
They hadn’t spoken since, but that didn’t bother Mabel. She had more interesting friends, ones who were happy to dish the dirt on those who deserved it, especially the likes of Carol Cole. Still, it had been a bit of a shock to hear that her father was dead, and some people had been invited to his funeral. Not her of course, or Edna, but as her husband had once given Frank a beating, it wasn’t surprising. There’d been other news too. Celia Frost’s other son had turned up, and though she regularly kept her ear to the adjoining wall, hoping to hear Phyllis and Amy talking about him, so far Mabel hadn’t learned anything of interest that she could pass on.
It was steamy in the kitchen as Mabel drained the vegetables and then dished up their dinner. It was just for the two of them, and for a moment Mabel was saddened as she remembered previous Christmases spent next door with Phyllis, Stan and Amy. They’d had some good laughs, Stan a born comedian, and though Mabel hadn’t expected an invitation this year, she had hoped that one of her other mates would issue one.
‘Here you are, Jack,’ she said, placing their plates on the table.
‘Lovely,’ he said, and that one word was it for the rest of the meal.
Mabel looked at the Christmas crackers she’d placed on the table, and a wave of sadness washed over her. She’d been mad to try to make this meal festive. The crackers only served to emphasise the fact that there was just two of them, when there should have been three.
Amy gave her present to Celia, hoping that it was all right. She’d chosen the silky scarf with care, selecting one in subtle shades of pink and lavender.
‘Thank you, Amy, this is lovely.’
With a sigh of relief that Celia’s appreciation seemed genuine, Amy gave Jeremy his last minute present, a pair of gloves, for which he thanked her. He’d been different for the last few days, not at all flirtatious, and Amy found the feelings he aroused in her had diminished. It was as though Jeremy had a switch that he turned on when he was flirting; a light in his eyes, a magnetism, that thankfully he’d now turned off.
‘This is for you,’ she said to Tommy as lastly she gave him his present, one she’d saved for, and it had been worth it to see the delight on his face.
‘This is a fabulous watch,’ he said, putting it on and then grinning, he kissed her.
‘Well this is all very nice,’ Celia said, ‘but we don’t usually exchange presents until after dinner.’
Amy flushed with embarrassment. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Tommy said. ‘You can have your present now too.’
‘Thomas, I’d rather we do things the proper way and I’m sure Amy is happy to wait.’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ she said, wondering why exchanging presents after dinner was the
proper
way. As a child she had always woken early on Christmas day, running downstairs to see what had been left under the tree. It had been a long time before she found out that it had been her father, not Santa, who brought soot down the chimney in which she always saw footprints. How awful it would’ve been to be told she couldn’t open her presents until after dinner, especially as even now she woke up on Christmas day with a sense of excitement.
‘However, I don’t think it’s too early for a glass of sherry,’ Celia said. ‘Jeremy, will you do the honours, but just a small one for me.’
As Jeremy rose to pour them, Amy looked at Tommy and now had to force a smile. It was nice to be with him, but she was finding the restrained atmosphere difficult.
‘Thank you,’ she said when Jeremy handed her a glass, and though she wasn’t keen on the taste Amy sipped it, while the others talked about politics, a subject she knew little about.
‘The Suez crisis is over, but do you think Anthony Eden is going to survive politically?’ Tommy asked.
‘I hope so,’ Celia replied. ‘I rather like him and he gained us a large majority in the last election.’
Amy’s thoughts drifted to Carol, unable to imagine how awful Christmas must be for her this year. She had called in to see her several times since her father had died, and though Paul had told her about the funeral arrangements, Carol had seemed unwilling to talk.
‘Amy, I asked if you’d like another glass of sherry?’
Celia’s voice snapped Amy back to the present and she said, ‘No thank you.’
‘Well I’ll have one, Jeremy, and then I’ll see to our dinner.’
‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Amy said, used to being in the kitchen with her mother.
‘I have everything under control, and really, Amy, it isn’t the done thing to expect help from one’s guests.’
‘Oh, come on,
Mum
,’ Tommy protested. ‘Don’t be so stuffy and there’s no need to treat Amy like a guest.’
‘I have my standards, Thomas, or would you prefer me to treat Amy like a kitchen maid?’ she asked.
‘Don’t be silly and for goodness sake lighten up,
Mum
. It’s Christmas.’
‘Yes, come on, Mother,’ Jeremy agreed. ‘Here, drink another glass of sherry.’
‘Thank you, dear,’ she said, smiling at her elder son.
When Celia finished her drink she went through to the kitchen, and Amy didn’t dare ask if she wanted any help again. Her feelings of being out of place grew worse when she saw the immaculately laid dining table, with pristine linen and not a Christmas cracker in sight.
It was all so formal when they sat down to eat, so correct, and Amy missed her dad’s jokes, the groans at those found in crackers, and even the silly paper hats. It struck her then that this was her last Christmas as a single woman and though it was nice to be with Tommy, she now wished she had shared it with her parents.
Carol had mixed feelings. There was still her father’s funeral to face, but only a month later there was something to look forward to. She still found it almost impossible to believe and said to Paul, ‘It was awful to see
Mum
like that, but at least she’ll be home soon.’
‘Don’t tell anyone where she’s been, not even Amy,’ Paul reiterated again. ‘I’m not saying that she’d say anything, at least not intentionally, but it only takes one careless word and it would spread like wildfire.’
‘Yes,’ Dave agreed, ‘and if that happened, for Mum’s sake, we’d have to leave the area.’
‘Maybe we should do that anyway,’ Paul suggested. ‘If we all find work in another borough, we wouldn’t have to worry about it coming out.’
‘Well I’m game,’ Dave said. ‘What about you, Carol?’
‘I wouldn’t mind.’
‘Right then, after Dad’s funeral we’ll start looking around, but with jobs and a decent-size flat to find, it might take a while,’ Paul said, then cutting into a roast potato. ‘For your first go at a Christmas dinner, this ain’t a bad effort, Carol.’
‘Yeah, it’s really tasty,’ Dave agreed.
Carol sighed. For all her talk in the past of never becoming a servant to men, she’d ended up as cook and cleaner first for her father, and now her brothers. ‘Well as I cooked it, you two can wash up.’
‘What! You must be joking,’ Dave said.
‘No, I’m not. I work full time too you know, and it wouldn’t hurt the pair of you to do some of the cooking and housework.’
‘Carol’s got a point,’ Paul said. ‘We did it before she moved in.’
‘Yeah, but we didn’t have any choice then,’ Dave argued. ‘Anyway, Carol won’t have to do it for much longer.’
‘You’re not lumbering Mum with everything when she comes home,’ Carol said, shaking her head in exasperation. ‘We’re all going to chip in.’
‘If you say so,’ Dave said, but then turned the subject back to moving out of the area. ‘What about going over the river to Chelsea?’
‘It depends on how much a flat would cost,’ Paul said.
Carol hadn’t hesitated in agreeing to move away from Battersea, yet knew that had she been asked the same question a year ago her answer would have been different. She’d been young and carefree then, but now every time she saw Amy it only served as a reminder of what had been happier times.
Amy still seemed so fresh, so innocent, while Carol felt so much older and tainted. They seemed eons apart now, and with Amy getting married in four months, the old friendship they had shared would be forever changed.
Maybe it was time to sever all ties to Amy – to move on to where there’d be no memories of the past to haunt her.
‘Mabel, it’s been two months since your roof was repaired, but there’s no sign of ours, or any others being done,’ Edna complained.
‘Yeah, I know, and what do you think about Winnie Morrison’s place being done up on the inside? It’s a bit funny if you ask me, especially as after fumigating Frank Cole’s place it hasn’t been touched.’
‘Samuel Jacobs has never been known to decorate his houses before he re-lets them. It’s usually a case of take it as you find it or leave it, so yeah, it’s a bit odd,’ Edna agreed.
‘I’ve got my suspicions, especially as Rose can twist Samuel Jacobs around her finger, but I won’t say anything until I’m sure. She’s even paying for Amy’s wedding reception.’
‘You and Phyllis aren’t talking, so how did you find out about that?’ Edna asked.
Mabel chuckled, winked and said, ‘Thin walls, that’s how.’
‘Yeah, they come in handy at times,’ Edna agreed, gesturing to the left. ‘You should have heard those two next door yesterday. Wilf lost a mint on the horses again and Pat was going ballistic.’
‘I’m glad I’m not married to a gambler,’ Mabel said. ‘I don’t know how Pat puts up with it.’
‘Nor me, or a drinker.’
‘They’re just as bad,’ Mabel agreed, nodding sagely. ‘Look what happened to Frank Cole.’
‘Yeah, and I’d like to know what happened to Carol. She wasn’t in the hairdressers when I went to have a perm. They said she’d left, moved away, but that was all the information I could get. Have you heard anything?’
Mabel was waiting for this and was pleased with her little snippet. ‘I’ve had my ear to the wall and it’s not only Carol who moved away, her brothers have gone too.’
‘Really? I wonder why?’
‘I know why. I heard Amy talking to Phyllis and it seems it’s down to the nasty gossip that’s been spread around about Carol,’ said Mabel, knowing that Edna had been the one who set it in motion.
‘Well, all I can say is good riddance to bad rubbish,’ Edna said defensively. ‘I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but my hubby had to give Frank Cole a hiding when he insulted me, and as for Carol, look how she turned out. Like mother like daughter, if your theory about Daphne running off with George is right.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ Mabel said, and as Edna poured her another cup of tea, they found a few more people to talk about.
Jeremy was aware of time passing too. It was now mid-February and though Tom had given him a job at the unit, he hated being treated like an apprentice. There was an uneasy truce now between him and Len Upwood, though it still annoyed Jeremy that Tom had taken the man’s side. He’d expected that as Tom’s brother, he’d be given some authority, but instead had been told that Len was the foreman and therefore the one who gave the orders.
On top of that, he’d done as his mother suggested and laid off Amy, but the more he saw her, the more his obsession was taking a hold. He wanted her – but in eight weeks’ time, Amy would be marrying his brother.
‘Mum, we’re getting nowhere,’ he said that evening. ‘There’s no sign of Tom coming to a decision about giving me a share in the business, and we haven’t even suggested that you should have a stake in it too.’
‘He’d baulk at that, and for now we should just concentrate on you.’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right, but once I’m on board I’ll see that you get your share too,’ Jeremy lied.
‘I know you will, darling, and in the meantime I’ll go on speaking to Tom on your behalf. I hope you can see now how difficult things have been for me since your father left. With Thomas in control of the business, I have no say in anything, and I have to rely on him for my finances.’
‘You shouldn’t have to dance to his tune. It isn’t right, and though I’ve said nothing to Tom so far, maybe it’s time I stepped in. It’s Sunday tomorrow and we could sit him down for a family meeting. If you hint beforehand that I’m thinking of leaving the country again, it might make him a bit more amenable. If that doesn’t work, with time running out, we’ll have to go back to my first plan.’
‘I still think it’s too dangerous. You said you could discredit Amy; show her to be the tart she is, but if Tom sees you both in a compromising position, he might focus his jealousy and anger on you. If Amy convinces him that she’s the innocent party, you’ll never get a share in the business. In fact, any relationship you have with your brother will be over.’